nny's unexpected ferocity, the afternoon's practice, the
folks at home, all these subjects and many others engaged his mind.
Beyond the wall on one side Penny was scraping busily on his violin. In
the pauses between exercises Clint could hear Harmon Dreer moving about
behind the locked door that separated Numbers 14 and 15. Then the door
from the well swung open, footsteps crossed the hall and Amy appeared,
racket in hand. After that there was no more chance of study, for Clint
had to tell of the fracas between Penny and Dreer while Amy, stretched
in the Morris chair, listened interestedly. When Clint ended Amy
whistled softly and expressively.

"Think of old Penny Durkin scrapping like that!" he said. Then, with a
smile, he added regretfully: "Wish I'd seen it! Handed him a regular
knock-out, eh? What do you know about that? Guess I'll go in and shake
hands with him!"

"Dreer?" asked Clint innocently.

"Dreer! Yah! Penny. Someone ought to thank him on behalf of the school.
Who was the kid? Charlie Melville?"

"I didn't hear his first name," replied Clint, nodding.

"He's a young rotter. Dare say he deserved what Dreer was giving him,
although I don't believe in arm-twisting. Dreer ought to have
spanked him."

"Then you don't think Penny had any right to interfere?"

"Don't I? You bet I do! Anyone has a right to interfere with Harmon
Dreer. Anyone who hands him a jolt is a public benefactor."

"I fear you're a trifle biased," laughed Clint.

"Whatever that is, I am," responded Amy cheerfully. "What was Melville
doing to arouse the gentleman's wrath?"

"I didn't hear the details. Dreer assured me twice that he was going to
get even with Penny, though."

"Piffle! He hasn't enough grit! Penny should worry! Say, what are you
making faces about?"

"I--it's my knee. I got a whack on it and it sort of hurts when I bend
it."

"Why didn't you get it rubbed, you silly chump. Let's see it."

"Oh, it's nothing. It'll be all right tomorrow."

"Let--me--see--it!" commanded Amy sternly. "Well, I'd say you did whack
it! Stretch out there and I'll rub it. Oh, shut up! I've rubbed more
knees than--than a centipede ever saw! Besides, it won't do to have you
laid up, Clint, old scout. Think of what it would mean to the second
team--and the school--and the nation! I shudder to contemplate it. That
where it is? I thought so from your facial contortions. Lie still, can't
you? How do you suppose I can--rub if--you--twist lik