John pulled out his portemonnaie, and unrolled three new and
crisp bank-notes of ten dollars each.

"I think that's pretty good pay," he said, looking about him
triumphantly. "I don't care how many prizes Rathburn chooses to
give his favorite. I rather think I can get along without them."

John's face was turned toward the door, otherwise he would have
observed the approach of the teacher, and spoken with more
caution. But it was too late. The words had been spoken above his
ordinary voice, and were distinctly heard by the teacher. He
looked sharply at John Haynes, whose glance fell before his, but
without a word passed into the schoolroom.

"See if you don't get a blowing-up, John," said Dick Jones.

"What do I care!" said John, but in a tone too subdued to be
heard by any one else. "It won't do Rathburn any harm to hear the
truth for once in his life."

"Well, I'm glad I'm not in your place, that's all!" replied Dick.

"You're easily frightened!" rejoined John, with a sneer.

Nevertheless, as he entered the schoolroom, and walked with
assumed bravado to his seat in the back part of the room, he did
not feel quite so comfortable as he strove to appear. As he
glanced stealthily at the face of the teacher, who looked
unusually stern and grave, he could not help thinking, "I wonder
whether he will say anything about it."