"But even if Dr. Doolittle doesn't take any notice of the complaint and punish us, old Thorny will have it in for us in class."
"He has anyhow, so it won't be anything new. All we've got to do is not to give him any more chances at us than possible. I wish this hadn't happened, but since it has we'll make the best of it."
"It was you fellows' fault for shoving me into the basket of chaff," declared Andy with an injured tone. "Otherwise none of it would have gotten into my pocket and he wouldn't have suspected."
"Oh, well, what's the use of kicking? That's the way with most of your jokes—there's a slip-up somewhere."
"Oh, you get out! If you played as many jokes as I do some of yours would slip up once in a while, you old skate!"
Andy aimed a playful punch at his brother which the latter dodged, and at once there was a friendly scuffle in the hall outside of their room.
"Here! Here! That will do! You boys are a disgrace to the school!" exclaimed a rasping voice and the sour face of Professor Callum glared at them. "Stop it at once, or I shall report you again."
"Say, isn't he the limit!" exclaimed Andy, as they went inside. "I'd like to do something else to him."
"Oh, for cats' sake—quit," begged his brother. "I'm going to study."
Then quiet reigned in the little room and the boys were more or less industrious over their books.