“That’s what I heard,” persisted Clint.

“You’re wrong!” Dreer laughed contemptuously.  “Whoever told you that stuff was stringing you.  Well, I must get a move on.  I’ve got a ten o’clock.”

“But wait a minute,” begged Amy.  “You’ve got time enough.  Let’s get this settled.”  Dreer suddenly discovered that Amy was between him and the Academy and that he had a detaining hand on his arm.

“Can’t, I tell you!  I’ll be late!  Besides, there’s nothing to settle.  I know what I’m talking about.  And if Thayer doesn’t believe it all he’s got to do is to look in the Claflin catalogue.  I’ve got one in my room he can see any time he wants to.”

“Sure, I know,” said Amy soothingly.  “I’ve told him you’d know all about it.”  Amy turned to Clint impatiently.  “Dreer went to Claflin—–­ how many years was it?  Two, Dreer?”

“Yes; that is, one and a half.  I left in the Winter.”

“Of course.  Well, don’t you see, Clint, he’d ought to know what he’s talking about?”

“Maybe he ought,” replied Clint rudely, “but I don’t believe he does.  He says Claflin doesn’t do that kind of thing.  If it’s such a fine school why didn’t he stay there?”

“You bet it’s a fine school!” returned Dreer heatedly.  “It’s the best there is!”

“Oh, piffle,” sneered Clint.  “Better than Brimfield, I suppose?”

“Better than—­Say, you make me laugh!  There isn’t any comparison.  Claflin’s got it all over this hole every way you look!” Dreer paused suddenly and cast a doubtful look at Amy.  But for once Amy seemed unconcerned by such sentiment.  His smile even seemed approving!  Dreer warmed to his subject.  “Of course, you fellows haven’t been anywhere else and think Brimfield’s quite a school.  That’s all right.  But I happen to have gone to Claflin and I know the difference between a real school and a second-rate imitation like this!  Brimfield’s a regular hole, fellows, believe me!  Gee, I must get on!”

“I wouldn’t hurry,” said Amy.  Something in his tone caught Dreer’s attention and he glanced around apprehensively to find Amy removing his coat.

“Wha—­what do you mean, you wouldn’t hurry?” he asked uneasily.

Amy hung his coat on a paling and placed his cap on top.  Then he tugged his belt in another hole.  And all the time he smiled quite pleasantly.  Dreer moved backward toward the curb, but found Clint barring his way.  His anxious gaze searched the road for help, but in each direction it was empty.  He laughed nervously.

“What’s the joke?” he asked.

“No joke at all, Dreer,” replied Amy.  “I gave you fair warning that the next time you ran down the school I’d beat you.  If I were you, Dreer, I’d take off my coat.”

“You dare touch me and it’ll be mighty bad for you, Byrd!  I’m not going to fight you, and you can’t make me.”

“Suit yourself about that,” replied Amy, stepping toward him.