“I leave them, sir,” shouted Phin, above the tumult of hissing, “for the use of some of your many pauper students.”

Then he went out, slamming the door after him.  He darted down to the basement, then waited before the locker door until one of the monitors came down, unlocked the door, and allowed Phin to get his hat.  But the monitor never looked at him, or spoke.

Once out of the building, Phin could keep back the choking sob and tears no longer.  Stealing down a side street, where he would have to pass few people, Phin gave way to his pent-up shame.  Yet in it all there was nothing of repentance.  He was angry with himself—–­in a fiendish rage toward others.

Afterwards, he learned that the books and other contents of his desk were burned in the school yard at recess, to the singing of a dirge.  But, even for the purpose of making a bonfire of his books the students would not touch the articles with their hands.  They coaxed the janitor to find a pair of tongs, and with this implement Phin’s books and papers were conveyed to the purifying blaze.

Behind the door in the privacy of his own room Phin Drayne shook his fist at the surrounding air.

“I have one mission in life, now, anyway!” raged the boy.  “I’ve got some cruel scores to pay.  You, Dick Prescott, shall come in for a large share of the payment!  No matter how long I have to wait and plan, or what I have to risk, you shan’t get away from me!”

CHAPTER VII

Dick Meets the Boy-with-a-Kick

Evil thoughts can never be cherished, day after day, without leading the more daring or brutal into some form of crime.

Phin, the first three or four times he tried to appear on Main Street, was “spotted” and hissed by High School boys.

Even the boys of the lower schools heard the news, and took up the hissing with great zest.

So Phin was forced to remain indoors during the day, which drove him out by night, instead.

Had he been older, and known more of human nature, he would have known that the hissing would soon die out, and thereafter he would meet only cold looks.

At home, be sure Phin was not happy.  His mother, a good woman, suffered in silence, saying little to her son.

Phin’s father, a hard-headed and not over scrupulous man of business, looked upon the incident of expulsion as a mere phase in life.  He thought it “would do the boy good, and teach him to be more clever.”

Gridley met Milton High School and scored another victory, Milton taking only two points on a safety that Gridley was forced to make.

And now the game with Chester was looming up ahead.  It was due for the coming Saturday.

Three times a week, Dick Prescott had his squad out for drill and practice, though he was careful to follow Mr. Morton’s suggestion not to get the young men trained down “too fine.”