the traitor to himself. "Brass, Phin, my boy! Brass! That is
bound to win out when the clodhoppers can't prove a blessed thing."

As none of the students outside of the squad showed any especial
inclination to cut him, Phin felt almost wholly reassured.

"It would be libelous, anyway, if the gang passed around a word
that they couldn't prove," chuckled Drayne. "So I guess those
that may be doing a heap of thinking will have caution enough
to keep their mouths shut, anyway,"

That afternoon, after luncheon, Phin Drayne took a long tramp
over country roads at the back of the big town. It was five o'clock
when he returned.

"Here's a note for you, on High School stationery," said Mrs.
Drayne, putting an envelope in her son's hand. "It came some
time ago."

Something warned the fellow not to open the envelope there. He
took it to his room, where he read the letter. It was from Dr.
Thornton, and said only:

_"You are directed to appear before the Board of Education at
its stated weekly meeting to-night. This is urgent, and you are
warned not to fail in giving this summons due heed."_

In an instant Phin was white with fear. His legs trembled under
him, and cold sweat stood out on his neck, face and forehead.