“Well?” Dan asked eagerly.
“Oh, I went.”
“Yes, but did he—what did he do?”
“Nothing; just walked with me across the playground. It was in the afternoon after school and almost every fellow was there. That was all he had to do. They gave me a chance after that and I made good.”
“If he’d accepted your invitation and licked you, though,” said Alf, “I don’t see that it would have helped you much.”
“He wouldn’t have licked,” said Tom quietly, “not the way I was feeling that day.”
“You, you old duffer,” scoffed his roommate, “why, you couldn’t lick a postage stamp!”
Tom pushed his chair back, arose, and approached Alf with a broad smile. Alf got his legs from under him and prepared for battle. Dan removed to a safer vantage point, and the trouble began. [It was a fine “rough-house” while it lasted.] The cushions were soon on the floor and the combatants speedily followed them, bringing along a curtain pole and two curtains. It was the pole that produced a cessation of hostilities. In falling it came end first and Alf’s head happened to be in the way. There was a yell, and when Tom removed himself from the recumbent form of his chum, Alf was feeling of his head disgustedly.
