Having opened school that morning in the usual manner, Prof. Richardson rose beside his desk, on which he tapped lightly with his knuckles, and surveyed the scholars over his spectacles, which seemed to cling precariously to the tip of his thin, aquiline nose. There was a slight bustle of expectancy all over the room, and then the scholars settled themselves down almost breathlessly to hear what the principal would say.

Having cleared his throat, Prof. Richardson began speaking slowly and distinctly, as if weighing every word. He did not look at first in the direction of Stone, who sat there flushed and chilled by turns, keeping his eyes on an open book which lay before him. There was sternness as he expressed his sentiments regarding the person with a bullying inclination who took pleasure in abusing those physically weaker than himself; and, although Sam Rollins’ name was not mentioned, every one knew at whom those open remarks were directed.

Hunk knew, and in an effort to appear unconcerned and a trifle defiant he was openly brazen. Soon, however, his eyes drooped before the accusing gaze of the old professor.

The principal continued by commending with some warmth the individual whose impulses led him, regardless of personal danger or the chance of being misunderstood, to stand up in defense of one who was being mistreated and abused. He went on to say that such a thing had occurred upon the previous afternoon, and that through undue haste on his own part, which he now regretted, he had been led to misunderstand the situation and condemn the wrong person. He even displayed his own moral courage by offering an apology.

Ben Stone’s cheeks were burning now, and his heart pounded so heavily that he fancied every one near him must hear it. He did not move as his grinning little seatmate reached over slyly to pinch him, whispering:

“That’s for you, old feller.”

Prof. Richardson was still speaking, and now he was telling of the remarkable heroism of a lad who had rushed to the defense of a little girl beset by two huge and vicious dogs. The principal’s words were simple and straightforward; he made no effort at eloquence, and yet his language was singularly graphic and effective. He made them shiver at the picture he drew of little Amy Eliot besieged by Tige Fletcher’s ugly pets. He caused them to see in imagination the dauntless defender of the child rushing to the spot and beating the brutes off.

“It was a very fine thing to do,” said the professor, who was at last looking straight at the lad whose eyes remained fixed upon that open book. “It was something not a few men might have hesitated about doing, or, at least, might have done in fear and trepidation. It is really marvelous that the heroic lad escaped untouched by the fangs of those snarling beasts. By this deed he established beyond question the fact that he is a boy of fine courage, possessing the instincts which lead him unhesitatingly to face gravest peril in defense of those who are unable to defend themselves. I have certainly learned a great deal concerning this lad, who apparently has been much misunderstood in the past, and I am proud of the fact that he is a student in this school. I am speaking of Benjamin Stone.”

A sudden hand-clapping broke out all over the room, and the professor did not check them nor reprove them for it.

There was, however, at least one who did not join in the burst of applause. Bernard Hayden’s face was pale and cold, but in his bosom there was a raging fire of wrath and resentment.

Ben was overcome. His head bent lower, and he blinked his eyelids rapidly to scatter the blurring mist which threatened to blind him. His effort to smile simply contorted his plain face a trifle, and there was nothing noble or heroic in the picture he made.

“Gee!” whispered Ben’s seatmate. “I never knew the old Prof. to get so enthusiastic before.”

As the regular routine of the day was taken up, Ben still sat there without daring to look around. He did not know when Bern Hayden, complaining of illness, asked permission to go home. Like one in a trance, he tried to study, and finally succeeded in forcing his attention upon his lessons. It truly seemed that the last shadow had been dispelled.

At intermission the boys came flocking around him, and some of the girls smiled upon him in a friendly manner. They found, however, that he disliked to talk of his exciting encounter with Fletcher’s dogs.

“The town fathers orter present you with a medal for killin’ old Tige’s big cur,” said Sile Crane.

“It may not oc-cur to them to do it,” chuckled Chipper Cooper.

“Permit me,” grinned Chub Tuttle, “as a token of my high appreciation and gratitude, to present you with a genuine fresh roasted, double-jointed California peanut.”

Even Spotty Davis hung around and sought to be familiar and friendly. Seizing Davis by the elbow, Sleuth Piper drew him aside and whispered mysteriously behind his hand:

“Listen to the deduction into which I have been led by the present surprising turn of affairs,” pleaded Sleuth. “Take it from me that this man Stone will become a member of the great Oakdale eleven, which will be much strengthened by his marvelous prowess and undaunted courage.”

“Mebbe so,” nodded Spotty; “but it ain’t going to set well in Bern Hayden’s crop.”

Walker, Ben’s seatmate, who had once felt it a sore affliction to be placed beside him, now hovered near, seeking to enjoy a little irradiated glory.

It was all very strange and unusual for Stone, and in spite of his pleasure in it his natural shyness continued to make him appear distant and somewhat sullen.

When midday intermission arrived Ben hastened to leave the academy, rushing away before any of the boys could join him. That day his cold lunch tasted sweet indeed, and his little bare room looked strangely attractive and homelike.

He returned late to the academy, arriving barely in time to escape being tardy. All the afternoon he studied hard, and in his recitations he was well prepared.

School over for the day, he was not given time to get away before the others, Eliot capturing him on the steps.

“Come on over to the gym, old fellow,” urged Roger. “This time you’re going to practice. I know the place for you in the line.”

“Come on, come on,” called several others; “we must get at it early to-night.”

Hayden was not with them; he had not returned to the academy since leaving on the plea of illness.

Again in the dressing room, Ben was supplied with football togs from Eliot’s locker. He dressed silently, listening to the chatter of the boys around him. They were all talking football now.

“I wonder where Bern is?” said Berlin Barker. “I should think he would want to get out with us to-night.”

“He was taken suddenly ill,” grinned Chipper Cooper. “Wonder if he has had a doctor?”

Stone felt a chill at the mention of his enemy’s name. He was congratulating himself over Hayden’s absence when something like a shadow seemed to come over him, and he looked up quickly to discover the fellow in the open doorway.

“Eliot,” called Bern, stepping into the room, “I want a few private words with you.”