"That's what I said."
"Well, sir!" exclaimed Mark, "the more I hear of that Bull Harris the bigger coward I find him. It's comforting to know that all the cadets aren't that way."
"Very comforting!" responded the other, feeling of the bandage on his swollen jaw. "Very comforting! Reminds me of a story I heard once, b'gee, of a man who got a thousand dollars' comfort from a railroad for having his head cut off."
Mark laughed for a moment, and then he fell to tapping the step thoughtfully with his heel. He was thinking over a plan.
"I don't suppose you've much love for the yearlings," he remarked, at last.
"Bet cher life not," laughed the other. "I've about as much as a mother-in-law for a professional joke writer, b'gee! Reminds me of a story I once heard—but go on; I want to hear what you had to say. Tell my story later."
"Well, three friends of mine have formed a sort of an informal alliance for self-defence——"
"Bully, b'gee!" cried Dewey, excitedly.
"And I thought maybe you'd like to——"
"Join? Bet cher life, b'gee! Why didn't you say so before? Whoop!"