“You’ve told!” Sam growled.
The other widened the distance between them. “Well, that—that’s all I’ve got to say,” he mumbled.
Sam made no answer. Hagle seemed to expect none, for he continued to draw away from the leader of the Safety First Club, and did not look back.
CHAPTER IX
THE CLUB FORMS HOLLOW SQUARE
It meant war. The result of the class meeting was so accepted by both the club and its opponents; and though Sam speculated long and earnestly on the reasons for the sudden enmity, he did not attempt to deceive himself about the ugly fact. It was plain that somebody was shrewdly taking advantage of the situation to work harm for the Safety Firsts, and he had no doubt of the identity of the schemer. Why Zorn should have been moved to this pernicious activity Sam did not know: mere lack of friendliness hardly explained it. Zorn had spread the story of the Trojan’s disaster, and had added a most unfavorable version of Sam’s participation. He had worked on popular prejudice against both a cheat and a telltale. These things were to be regarded as accomplished. The practical question remained, what was to be done about them?
Sam had no ready answer to the question. The most he could do was to counsel prudence to the more radical and excitable of the club, urge all the members to watch carefully for anything which might have a bearing upon the affair of the Trojan, and advise especially close study of the doings of Zorn, in an effort to discover, among other things, the cause of his active enmity. On this point the other members of the club could give Sam little light. There had been no bitter quarrel with Zorn; none of the boys could recall any ground for an abiding grudge.
As was to be expected, the club drew closer together than ever. It formed hollow square, as it were, against all attacks. On its side, the other faction showed no desire for reconciliation.
Spring usually saw a series of inter-class baseball games. This year was no exception to the rule; but none of the Safety Firsts played on the Junior nine. The Trojan, perhaps the best second baseman in the school, was passed over; Tom Orkney and Sam, both fair players, were left out. Even the Shark, highly esteemed as an inerrant scorer, was refused recognition. The slights were deliberate, inescapable, undeniable. And baseball was but one among many instances of the feeling of the majority of the class.
On the club’s part all this was received defiantly. Cold shoulder was met by cold shoulder. Sam had no difficulty in keeping his chums in line. Orkney aided him greatly in the task of coaching the Trojan in Latin, and added timely and encouraging suggestions, which were sorely needed. Still smarting under the sense of essentially unfair treatment, the Trojan would have been glad to quit the school. Again and again he rebelled at appearing at the recitations he was permitted to attend, and it required all of Sam’s tact and firmness and Orkney’s encouragement to hold him to his work under the existing conditions. Herman Boyd also lent a hand occasionally, although he was not of much help as a tutor. As for the Shark, he went his way imperturbably. Give him a sufficiency of his beloved mathematics, and he cared not a straw for the opinion of the multitude. Poke and Step had developed some mysterious interest of their own, which kept them busy of afternoons in Poke’s barn. Sam asked no questions about their enterprise. If they wished to hold it a secret, he had no objections.
Sam, in these days, though, felt the double burden of responsibility and unpopularity. Lon Gates, who made it a business to observe him closely, noted his preoccupation and demanded the cause.