Later in the day, Hector fell in with Bates, already referred to as a special friend of Jim Smith.  The intimacy, however, had been diminished since the contest in which Hector gained the victory.  Bates was not quite so subservient to the fallen champion, and Jim resented it.

“I saw you walking out with old Crabb,” said Bates.

“He isn’t particularly old,” said Hector.

“Oh, you know what I mean.  Did you ever see such a scarecrow?”

“Do you refer to his dress?” asked Hector.

“Yes; he’ll soon be in rags.  I shouldn’t wonder at all if that old suit of his was worn by one of Noah’s sons in the ark.”

“You don’t suppose he wears it from choice, do you?”

“I don’t know.  He’s stingy, I suppose—­afraid to spend a cent.”

“You are mistaken.  He has a sister to support, and his salary is very small.”

“I can believe that.  Old Sock is mean with his teachers.  How much does he pay Crabb?”

“It is very little, but I don’t know that I ought to tell.”

“I say, though, Roscoe, I wouldn’t go to walk with him again.”

“Why not?”

“The boys will say that, you are trying to get into his good graces, so he’ll let you off easy in your lessons.”

“I don’t want him to let me off easy; I generally intend to be prepared.”

“I know, but that’s what they will say.”

“Let them say what they please, and I will do what I please,” said Hector, independently.

“Old Sock ain’t any too fond of Crabb since he took your part the other day.  Jim says the old man means to bounce him before long.”

“I suppose that means discharge him.”

“It means giving him his walking papers.  Jim will see that he does it, too.”

Hector did not reply, but he felt more than ever glad that he had written a letter which might possibly bring the poor usher more profitable and, at the same time, agreeable employment.

“Jim doesn’t like you, either,” added Bates.

“I never supposed he did.  I can do without his favor.”

“He will get you into a scrape if he can.”

“I have no doubt whatever of his benevolent intentions toward me.  I shall not let it interfere with my happiness.”

Just then a sharp cry was heard, as of a boy in pain.  It came from the school yard, which the two boys were approaching on their return from a walk.

“What’s that?” asked Hector, quickly.

“I expect it’s the new boy.”

One had arrived the day before.

“Is he hurt, I wonder?” asked Hector, quickening his steps.

“Jim’s got hold of him, probably,” said Bates; “he said this morning he was going to give the little chap a lesson to break him into school ways.”

“He did, did he?” said Hector, compressing his lips.  “I shall have something to say to that,” and he quickened his steps.

CHAPTER XVI.