he big game, it was looked on as a dire catastrophe, no more and no
less; and the school, which had laughed and chuckled over the incident
which had caused the catastrophe, and applauded the participants in it,
promptly turned their thumbs down when the effect became known and
indignantly dubbed the affair "silly kid's play" and blamed Tom very
heartily. How much of the blame he really deserved you shall judge for
yourself, but the affair merits a chapter of its own.

CHAPTER XII

THE JOKE ON MR. MOLLER

AMY BYRD started it.

Or, perhaps, in the last analysis, Mr. Moller began it himself. Mr.
Moller's first name was Caleb, a fact which the school was quick to
seize on. At first he was just "Caleb," then "Caleb the Conqueror," and,
finally, "The Conqueror." The "Conqueror" part of it was added in
recognition of Mr. Moller's habit of attiring himself for the class room
as for an afternoon tea. He was a new member of the faculty that fall
and Brimfield required more than the few weeks which had elapsed since
his advent to grow accustomed to his grandeur of apparel. Mr. Caleb
Moller was a good-looking, in fact quite a handsome young man of
twenty-five or six, well-built, tall and the proud possessor of a
carefully trimmed moustache and Vandyke beard, the latter probably
cultivated in the endeavour to add to his apparent age. He affected
light grey trousers, fancy waistcoats of inoffensive shades, a frock
coat, grey gaiters and patent leather shoes. His scarf was always
pierced with a small black pearl pin. There's no denying that Mr. Moller
knew how to dress or that the effect was pleasing. But Brimfield wasn't
educated to such magnificence and Brimfield gasped loudly the first time
Mr. Moller burst on its sight. Afterward it laughed until the novelty
began to wear off. Mr. Moller was a capable instructor and a likeable
man, although it took Brimfield all of the first term to discover the
latter fact owing to the master's dignified aloofness. Being but a scant
eight years the senior of some of his pupils, he perhaps felt it
necessary to emphasise his dignity a little. By the last of October,
however, the school had accepted Mr. Moller and was, possibly, secretly
a little proud to have for a member of its faculty one who possessed
such excellent taste in the matter of attire. He was universally voted
"a swell dresser," and not a few of the older fellows set themselves to
a modest emulation of his style. There rem