Westby listened to it gloomily; there were many questions that he wanted
to ask, but now he did not dare. Evidently Mr. Upton had warned his
brother against him, had imparted to his brother his own dislike; that
was why Lawrence had nipped so brutally his harmless, humorous allusion
to the master’s temper.

As a matter of fact, Lawrence had had no previous knowledge whatever of
Westby; Irving had always withstood his impulse to confide his troubles.
He made now an effort to draw Westby forward and reinstate him in the
conversation; he said,—

“Lawrence, you and Westby here may come against each other this
afternoon; Westby’s first substitute for one of the half-backs on the
School eleven.”

Lawrence said, “That’s good,” and gave Westby hardly a glance.

After luncheon, walking down to the athletic field with Westby, Carroll
said jeeringly,—

“Well, Kiddy Upton’s brother is no myth, is he, Wes?”

At that Westby began to splutter. “Conceited chump! He makes me tired.
Of all the fresh things—to sit up there and talk about the ‘kids’ in
Kiddy’s dormitory!”

Carroll laughed in his silent, irritating way. “He certainly put you
down and out—a good hard one. Why, even Kiddy was sorry for you.”

Westby went on fuming. “Sorry for me! I guess Kiddy had been whining to