“No, he will drop you quick enough if you can’t deliver the goods,” said Tom Trainor. Tom spoke from sad experience. Stacey Trowbridge looked across from the other end of the table.
“You’ve played, have you, Merrill?” he asked quietly.
“Yes, a little. Enough to find out I’m no good at it.”
“You can’t tell,” said Pete. “Cotting has a way of making the most of fellows, I guess.”
“He makes mistakes sometimes though,” said Tad Mudge gravely. “He let Tom get away.”
There was a laugh at this sally, which Tom joined in good-naturedly, and the conversation wandered to other subjects. After supper Rodney and Tad made up their tiff.
“Sorry I was so grouchy,” said Rodney.
“That’s all right. I don’t blame you, Rod. I guess I was rather fresh anyway. Want to take a walk?”
By the next morning Rodney’s fame had spread throughout the school. Fellows nudged each other at sight of him and whispered when they thought he couldn’t see. But Rodney did see, or at least knew it somehow, and was half pleased and half annoyed. He was glad that fellows held his brother in the esteem they did and hoped that some day they might like him half as well, but it was a little bit annoying to be looked on as Ginger Merrill’s brother, as though he was of no importance on his own account. One of the submasters, Mr. Steuben, who was known as the Baron, shook hands with him and told him pleasant things about Stanley, and inquired solicitously after that youth.