CHAPTER XII
TESTS
“I suppose now we’ll all get blown up, or poisoned, or something,” Bill said to Tony, after telling of the eclipse of Luigi Malatesta.
“Oh, no; the Malatesta are foemen worthy of our steel, to agree by an English poet; is it not?”
“‘Foeman worthy of a steal,’ I guess you mean,” laughed Gus.
“Yes, that’s more like it. I wouldn’t trust that pig-faced villain across a ten-acre lot with a ten-cent piece!” declared Bill.
“The soul of honor doesn’t dwell in a husky guy who’d strike a cripple,” said Gus. “And I bet a cow he’s going to stir up more trouble around here before he quits maneuvering.”
Tony made no reply, but stood for a long time, gazing at the floor. Presently only the sound of tools and machines was heard in the shop.
It is not probable that Luigi told of the precise outcome of his clash with Bill and Gus, though he may have said enough to influence sophomore sentiment against Bill’s standing in the school. At any rate, the feeling grew in strength and spread until it became a subject of comment among freshmen and seniors who were inclined to sympathize with the brainy and keen-witted lame boy. At least he had many friends, both high and low, and most of the teachers admired him openly.
So far the sentiment had been rather more doubtful and erratic than determined. There had been nothing to warrant the assumption that Bill thought himself more intelligent than the sophomores, or members of his own class. His radio knowledge was somewhat a thing apart and in that he shared with the less obtrusive Gus.