over-confident.

Mr. Peterson called during the morning and conferred with Joel for a few
minutes. The gaping school knew what that meant, and awaited the out come
with the most anxious interest. Mr. Peterson, a six-foot Dane, an
engine-driver at the Stream, and Billy's father, was volunteering for
service in case Mr. Ham should need assistance in dealing with the two
culprits; but Joel sent him away, and the boys breathed freely again.
Their confidence in Dolf's 'rosum' did not leave them quite blind to the
advantages of an amicable settlement of their little difference with Mr.
Ham.

It was not until the boys were marching out for the dinner hour,
satisfied at last all was well, that Joel seemed suddenly to recollect,
and he called after Ted, blighting the poor youth's new-born happiness
and filling his small soul with a great apprehension.

'Teddy,' he called, 'you will remain, my boy. I have private business
with you--private and confidential, Teddy.'

So Ted fell out and stood by the wall, a very monument of dejection.

When school met again the scholars noted that the ink-stains had been
carefully washed and scraped from the wall and the floor, and they found
Ted McKnight sprawling in his place, his head buried in his arms, dumb
and unapproachable. If a mate came too close, moved by curiosity or a
desire to offer sympathy, Ted lashed out at him with his heels. For the
time being he was a small but cankered misanthrope full of vengeful
schemes, and only one person in the whole school envied him. That person
was Richard Haddon, whose turn was yet to come.