Bill hesitated, and Brayton said:
“Are there any hard cases among the boarders, then? We can have our cupboards finished by the time they get here, but they might break ’em open. Then where’d all our experiments go to?”
“Don’t know about that,” said Zeb. “We can’t tell who’s coming and who ain’t, just yet, but we’ll keep an eye on ’em when they come.”
“That’s right,” replied Brayton. “If you fellows’ll go in with me we can have a grand time of it, this fall and winter. You see, I’m a good deal of a stranger yet, and I shall have to ask your advice about a good many things.”
“We’ll be on hand!” exclaimed Hy Allen. “If you want to know anything about Ogleport, you just ask Zeb Fuller. It’s just the same as if you’d asked the whole crowd.”
“You see,” explained Zeb, “we village boys all pull together, and sometimes the rest don’t know enough to agree with us. That’s where they get into trouble, you know, and old Sol—the Rev. Dr. Dryer, I mean—he used to side with them generally.”
“And then he got into trouble, eh?” laughed Brayton. “Well, now I think our goods are safe enough for to-night. We’ll get better acquainted with them and with each other one of these days.”
Brayton was preparing to close and lock the door behind them all, as he spoke, and in a moment more he was striding away across the green towards the house of Dr. Dryer.
Zeb Fuller stood at the foot of the steps, looking after Brayton till he was out of hearing, and then he turned to his friends with:
“Boys, that’s the kind of teacher I like. Not the slightest sign of insubordination.”