gnacious face and a bold eye.
He seemed to be no favorite among the boys, though they treated him
with a certain amount of respect. Well, there is never a town or a
village but has its particular bully; and for several years now Nick
Lang had ably filled that role in Scranton.

He was a born "scrapper," and never so happy as when annoying others.
A fight appeared to be the acme of pleasure with him, and it was seldom
that he could be seen without some trace of a mix-up on his face in the
shape of scratches, or a suspicious hue about one of his eyes.

The other boy was Leon Disney, the "under-study" of Nick. While just
as tough as the other, Leon never displayed the same amount of
boldness. He would rather attain his revenge through some petty means,
being a born sneak. The boys only tolerated Leon because Nick chose to
stand up for him; and every one disliked to anger the Lang fellow, on
account of his way of making things unpleasant for others.

The general talk continued, with Nick taking part in it, for he at
least was known to be a smart hand at athletics, and had often led in
such things as hammer-throwing and wrestling.

During the course of the conversation, which had become general, Eli
chanced to mention the name of Owen Dugdale.

"Why, they say that even he aspires to get a place on the substitute
list, just to think of his nerve. Perhaps a few other fellows might
feel they'd been slighted if the committee turned them down for Owen
Dugdale."

"Hold up there a bit, Eli," said K. K., reprovingly. "If I were you
I'd go a little slow about running a fellow down, just because he
happens to be called Owen Dugdale, and live with a queer old gentleman
he calls his grandfather, but who chooses to keep aloof from Scranton
folks as if he were a hermit. I happen to know that two of our most
respected chums, Hugh Morgan and Thad Stevens, seem to have taken a
great liking for that dark-faced chap. I've seen Owen in their company
considerably of late."

Eli gave a snort of disdain. He was one of those impulsive boys who
often say disagreeable things on the spur of the moment, and then
perhaps afterwards feel sorry for having done so. Evidently, he had
taken a notion to dislike the said Owen, and did not care who knew it.

"That fellow had been a mystery ever since he and his ancient
granddaddy came to Scranton, and started to live in that old house
called The Rookery, and which used to be thought a haunted