his brother,” Westby said sharply.

“He bragged so little about him once you wouldn’t believe he had a
brother,” replied Carroll. “I don’t see that he brags much more about
him now.”

“Well, I see it, and it annoys me,” retorted Westby rudely. “I think
I’ll see if I can have my seat changed. I’d rather sit at Scabby’s
table.”

Mr. Randolph, however, the head of the Upper School, refused to grant
Westby’s petition.

“You don’t give any special reason,” he said. “You have friends at Mr.
Upton’s table; you ought to be contented to stay there. What’s the
matter? Are you having friction with some one?”

“I should be better satisfied if I were at Scarborough’s table,” said
Westby.

“We can’t gratify every individual preference or whim,” replied Mr.
Randolph.

He asked Irving if he knew of any reason why Westby should be
transferred and told him that the boy had asked for the change.

“Oh, it’s just between him and me,” said Irving wearily. “We don’t get
on.”

“Then you’d like to have him go, too?”