“Let’s go out there and see if we can find anything,” suggested Amy.

was accepted by Mr
Unfortunately–or perhaps fortunately–Clint’s showing on this occasion
was accepted by Mr. Simkins as a standard to which future performances
were required to conform. “What has been done once may be done again,
Thayer,” he would inform him. And Clint, not being able to deny the
logic of this statement, was forced to toil harder than ever. But there
came a time, though it was not yet, when he found that his difficulties
were lessening, that an hour accomplished what it had taken two to
accomplish before; and that, in short, Greek, while not a study to
enthuse over, had lost most of its terrors. But all that, as I say, came
later, and for many weeks yet “Uncle Sim” pursued Clint in his dreams
and the days when he had a Greek recitation were dreaded ones.

“P-probably a rat,” whispered Amy.

were alone in their grandeur watching the efforts of a youth of about
twenty to start an automobile which stood in front of Thacher’s
principal hotel, the Commercial House
Gradually they had become separated from the other fellows, and now they
were alone in their grandeur watching the efforts of a youth of about
twenty to start an automobile which stood in front of Thacher’s
principal hotel, the Commercial House. They were not especially
interested in the spectacle and really didn’t much care whether the
youth ever got going, but there wasn’t much else to look at. Every time
the engine started and the youth made a wild dash at the throttle he
reached it too late. Before he could pull it down the chug-chugging died
away. Several minutes passed and Clint viewed the clock in front of a
jewelry store across the street apprehensively. It was seventeen minutes
of five. He tugged Amy’s sleeve.

the new line-up, turned to find Coach Robey beside him
“That’s the way to tackle, Thayer!” Clint, trotting down the field to
the new line-up, turned to find Coach Robey beside him. “That was good
work,” commended the coach. “Keep it up.”

“Do, eh? That’s good. Football at Brimfield didn’t amount to a great
deal when I was here, but the old school’s turned out some good elevens
since then. Well, I’m glad to have met you chaps. Some day when you’ve
got nothing better to do look me up in the village. I’m at Storer’s, a
little white house opposite the store and post office. Awfully glad to
have you. And–er–by the way, if you need evidence, Byrd, in this
little matter, call on me. Very glad to testify to the best of my
knowledge. Good-bye.”

“I don’t know either,” sighed Amy. “I found a lot of truck in my room,
but I haven’t seen the owner yet. The fellow who was in with me last
year has left school. Gone to live in China. Wish I could! I suppose the
fellow I draw will be a regular mutt.” They had reached the corner of
Wendell, and Amy paused. “The dining room’s in here. If you don’t mind
waiting until I run up and wash a bit we’ll eat together.”

“Easy, easy!” The stranger held up a hand. “I thought from what I saw
that this gentleman was quite neutral. How about it?” He turned
to Clint.

“He had a narrow escape from hydrophobia, didn’t he?” mused Clint.