“Stuff and nonsense!” growled the bully, but he was very pale, and his voice shook with emotion.  “That man’s name is William Nolly.  He used to know my father.  That is why I helped him along by giving him an order for the histories.  I don’t really want the books.”

“If you was helping him, how is it that Sam and I saw you taking a roll of bills from him down at the tavern?”

Again Baxter started.  “You didn’t see no such thing!” he roared, regardless of his grammar.  “I —­ that is —­ he gave me some change, that is all.  Here are the books I bought,” and he pointed to a package he had been carrying.

“It’s a made-up story,” retorted Tom.  “He gave you money, and my opinion is that that man is your father, and that he is no better than the man with whom he associates.”

The words had scarcely left Tom’s lips than Baxter leaped upon him —­ like an enraged animal and hurled him to the floor.  “I’ve a good mind to —­ to kill you for that, Rover!” he hissed.  “Take it back, or I’ll choke you to death!” and his strong hand sought Tom’s throat.

“Will you!” came in a gasp, and now Tom turned over and threw the bully to one side.  “I guess two can play at this game.  Take that!” and he struck Baxter a heavy blow on the side of the face.  In a moment they had clinched and were trying their best to throw each other.

Suddenly came a rattle of the door knob.  “Boys!  Boys!  What does this mean?” It was George Strong’s voice.  “Open the door instantly.”

“Keep your mouth shut!” whispered Baxter, as he again shook his fist in Tom’s face.  “Not one word —­ on your life!”

Then he disengaged himself, adjusted his collar and tie, which had become rumpled, and unlocked the door.  At once the head assistant strode into the dormitory.

“Have you two been fighting?” he demanded.

“We were only boxing a bit, sir,” answered Baxter, before Tom could speak.  “No harm intended, sir.”

“You were making a good deal of noise,” answered George Strong dryly.  “What have you to say, Rover?”

“I have this to say, Mr. Strong,” answered Tom boldly.  “I would like to interview Captain Putnam without delay.”

“Don’t you dare —­” began Baxter, when a wave of the teacher’s hand cut him, short.

“About what, Rover?”

“About this affair, and about Baxter, sir.  I am not a telltale, but certain things have happened which I think Captain Putnam should know for his own sake and for the reputation of his school.”

“You —­ you imp!” hissed Baxter.  He wanted to spring at Tom, but now George Strong caught him and held him fast.

“Baxter, you had best come with me —­ and you too, Rover.”

“To see Captain Putnam?” queried Tom.

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to go,” blustered the bully.  “Let Rover tell his yarn —­ I don’t care.  It will be only another of his lies.”