Rodney was puzzled. “What is it you want?” he asked.
“I’ll tell you what I don’t want, you fresh young kid. I don’t want any of your cheek. Get that?”
“I haven’t cheeked anyone,” protested the other. “You said ‘Hello,’ and I answered you.”
The boy next him was nudging him meaningly, but Rodney was still at a loss. Watson sneered.
“Innocent, aren’t you?” he demanded. “Don’t they teach you manners where you live? Where is that, anyway?”
“I live in Nebraska,” answered Rodney.
“Nebraska, eh! Out with the Indians. Well, of course you wouldn’t know any better. So I’ll explain to you, Mr. Wild West, that here at Maple Hill a First Former says ‘Sir’ to Third and Fourth Form fellows. Get that?”
“Yes, thanks. How was I to know you were a Fourth Former, though?”
There was a ripple of amusement at that and Watson flushed. “You’re supposed to know, kid. It’s your place to find out. Now, then, let’s try it again.”