me your pants for a pattern? Excuse me, though; perhaps you have no
other pair."

"For shame, James!" exclaimed one or two boys who had listened to the
colloquy, stirred to indignation by this heartless insult on the part
of James Leech to a boy who was deservedly a favorite with them all.

Herbert's fist involuntarily doubled, and James, though he did not
know it, ran a narrow chance of getting a good whipping. But our young
hero controlled himself, not without some difficulty, and said: "I
have one other pair, and these are at your service whenever you
require them."

Then turning to the other boys, he said, in a changed tone: "Who's in
for a game of ball?"

"I," said one, promptly.

"And I," said another.

Herbert walked away, accompanied by the other boys, leaving James
Leech alone.

James looked after him with a scowl. He was sharp enough to see that
Herbert, in spite of his patched pants, was a better scholar and a
greater favorite than himself. He had intended to humiliate him on the
present occasion, but he was forced to acknowledge that he had come
off second best from the encounter. He walked moodily away, and took
what comfort he could in the thought that he was far superior to a boy
who owned but two pairs of pants, and one of them patched. He was