The New Boy at Hilltop, and Other Stories. Barbour Ralph Henry

in a similar position on the first team was his more by reason of his size and weight than because of real ability, began to work his hardest.

      The closer Kenneth pressed him for his place the more Grafton's dislike of the younger boy became evident. As there was the length of the floor between their positions in the practice games the two had few opportunities to "mix it up," but once or twice they got into a scrimmage together and on those occasions the fur flew. Grafton was a hard, rough player and he didn't handle Kenneth with gloves. On the other hand, Kenneth asked no favors nor gave any. Naturally Grafton's superior size and strength gave him the advantage, and after the second of these "mix-ups," during which the other players and the few spectators looked on gleefully and the referee blew his whistle until he was purple in the face, Kenneth limped down to the dressing room with a badly bruised knee, a factor which kept him out of the game for the next two days and caused Grafton to throw sarcastic asides in the direction of the bench against which Kenneth's heels beat a disconsolate tattoo.

      Four days before the first game with Upper House—the championship shield went to the team winning two games out of three—Lower House held an enthusiastic meeting at which songs and cheers were practiced and at which the forty odd fellows in attendance pledged themselves for various sums of money to defray the cost of new suits and paraphernalia for both the basket ball and hockey teams.

      "How much do you give?" whispered Kenneth.

      "Five dollars," answered Joe, his pencil poised above the little slip of paper. Kenneth stared.

      "But—isn't that a good bit?" he asked incredulously.

      "It seems so when you only get twenty dollars a month allowance," answered

      Joe ruefully. "But every fellow gives what he thinks he ought to, you know;

      Graft usually gives ten dollars, but lots of the fellows can only give

      fifty cents."

      "I see," murmured Kenneth. "'What he thinks he ought to give, eh? That's easy."

      The following afternoon Upper and Lower Houses turned out en masse to see the first of the hockey series and stood ankle-deep in the new snow while Upper proceeded to administer a generous trouncing to her rival.

      "Eat 'em up, Upper! Eat 'em up, Upper!" gleefully shouted the supporters of the blue-stockinged players along the opposite barrier.

      "Oh, forget it!" growled Joe, pulling the collar of his red sweater higher about his neck and turning a disgusted back to the rink. "That's 14 to 3, isn't it? Well, it must be pretty near over, that's one comfort! Hello, here comes Whipple. Gee, but he makes me tired! Always trying to mix with the fellows. I wonder if he was born with that ugly smile of his. He's coming this way," Joe groaned. "He thinks I'm such a nice little boy and says he hopes my heart is of gold to match my hair! Wouldn't that peev you?"

      "Ah, Brewster," greeted Mr. Whipple, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder, "how goes it today?" He accorded Kenneth a curt nod.

      "Going bad," growled Joe.

      "Well, well, we must take the bad with the good," said the instructor sweetly. "Even defeat has its lesson, you know. Now—"

      But Kenneth didn't hear the rest. Grafton Hyde was beside him with a slip of paper in his hand.

      "Say, Garwood," said Grafton loudly enough to be heard by the audience near by, "I wish you'd tell me about this. It's your subscription slip. These figures look like a one and two naughts, but I guess you meant ten dollars instead of one, didn't you?"

      "No," answered Kenneth calmly.

      "Oh! But—only a dollar?" inquired Grafton incredulously.

      The fellows nearest at hand who had been either watching the game or delighting in Joe's discomforture turned their attention to Grafton and the new junior.

      "Exactly," answered Kenneth. "The figures are perfectly plain, aren't they?"

      Grafton shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

      "Oh, all right," he said. "Only a dollar seemed rather little, and I wanted to be sure—"

      "Didn't anyone else give a dollar?" demanded Kenneth.

      "We don't make public the amounts received," answered Grafton with much dignity. Kenneth smiled sarcastically.

      "What are you doing now?" he asked.

      "I merely asked—"

      "And I answered. That's enough, isn't it?"

      "Yes, but let me tell you that we don't take to stingy fellows in Lower House. You'd better get moved to Upper, Garwood; that's where you belong. You're a fresh kid, and I guess we don't have to have your subscription anyway." He tore the slip up contemptuously and tossed the pieces to the snow. Kenneth colored.

      "Just as you like," he answered. "I subscribed what I thought proper and you've refused to accept it. You haven't worried me."

      But a glance over the faces of the little throng showed that public sentiment was against him. Well, that couldn't be helped now. He turned his back and gave his attention to the game. But the incident was not yet closed. Mr. Whipple's smooth voice sounded in its most conciliatory tones:

      "We all know your generosity, Hyde. Let us hope that by next year Garwood will have learned from you the spirit of giving."

      Kenneth swung around and faced the instructor.

      "May I ask, sir, how much you gave?"

      "Me? Why—ah—I think the teachers are not required—I should say expected to—ah—contribute," answered Mr. Whipple agitatedly.

      "I guess they aren't forbidden to," answered Kenneth. "And I don't believe you've got any right to criticise the size of my subscription until you've given something yourself."

      Mr. Whipple's smile grew tremulous and almost flickered out.

      "I'm sure that the boys of the Lower House know that I am always ready and eager to aid in any way," he replied with angry dignity, "If they will allow me to contribute—" He paused and viewed the circle smilingly.

      The idea tickled all hands hugely.

      "Yes, sir!"

      "Thank you, sir!"

      "About five dollars, Mr. Whipple!"

      Mr. Whipple's smile grew strained and uneasy. He had not expected acceptance of his offer.

      "Yes, yes, perhaps it is best to keep the donations confined to the student body," he said. "Perhaps at another time you'll allow—"

      "Right now, sir!" cried Joe. "Give us a couple of dollars, sir!"

      The demand could not be disregarded. Shouts of approval arose on every hand. On the ice, Wason of the Upper House team had hurt his knee and time had been called; and the waiting players flocked to the barrier to see what was up. Mr. Whipple looked questioningly at Grafton and found that youth regarding him expectantly. With a sigh which was quickly stifled he drew forth his pocketbook and selected a two dollar note from the little roll it contained. He handed it to Grafton who accepted it carelessly.

      "Thanks," said Grafton. "I'll send you a receipt, sir."

      "Oh, that is not necessary," replied Mr. Whipple. Now that the thing was past mending he made the best of it. His smile had returned in all its serenity. "And now, Garwood," he said, "as I have complied with your requirements, allow me to say that your conduct has not been—ah—up to Hilltop standards. Let me suggest that you cultivate generosity."

      Kenneth, who had kept his back turned since his last words, swung around with an angry retort on his lips. But Joe's hand pulled him back.

      "Shut up, chum!" whispered Joe. "Let him go."

      Kenneth, swallowed, his anger and Mr. Whipple, with a smiling nod, followed by a quick malevolent glance at Joe, turned away from the group of grinning faces.

      Chuckles and quiet snickers followed him.

      There was joy in the ranks of the enemy.

      Only Kenneth showed no satisfaction over the instructor's discomfiture for he realized that the latter