r sympathies were all with Fred, although few
expected him to win against the bully of the school.

Only one voice was lifted for Shanks.

"Soak him, Andy," piped up the shrill voice of Sid Wilton, his toady,
whom most of the boys disliked even more than they did Andy, if that
were possible.

But Andy, at that moment, was not showing any great eagerness to "soak"
his antagonist. If Fred had flinched in the slightest degree, he would
have been upon him. But as he looked into the flashing eyes that met his
defiantly, the "yellow streak" that is in most bullies began to show in
Andy. His pallid face grew whiter and a blue tinge showed about his
lips.

With the eyes of all upon him, however, he saw no way of retreat, and
began to take off his coat.

It was noticeable, though, that he did this with great deliberation.

Suddenly a look of relief came into his eyes as he saw an approaching
figure.

"Here comes Professor Raymond," he said, trying to put into his words a
tone of disappointment. "We'll have to put this off till some other
time. Mighty lucky for you, too, or I'd have done you up good and
proper," he flung at Fred, all his courage returning when there was no
longer any demand for it.

"Let's go down to the gymnasium and have it out there," suggested Fred.
But Andy pretended not to hear. He slipped on his coat hurriedly, and,
in company with Sid Wilton, strolled off in one direction, while most of
the boys scattered in the other.

Professor Raymond sauntered up to a little group, composed of Fred,
Teddy, Billy Burton and "Slim" Haley.

His keen eye took in the flushed face of Fred and the air of suppressed
excitement among the others. He guessed pretty well what had been about
to happen, and, knowing Andy for what he was, he had little doubt as to
who had provoked the row. In his secret heart he would not have been at
all sorry to have that young cub get the whipping he richly deserved.

Still, of course, he could not tolerate any breach of the rules of the
school, which strictly forbade fighting.

He paused and looked keenly from one to the other.

"Any trouble, boys?" he asked.

"No, sir," answered Fred respectfully, "that is, not yet."

"Nor at any other time, I hope," said his teacher. "Remember, boys, no
fighting."

But he did not pursue the matter further, and, after chatting a moment,
went on, with a little smile upon his lips. In his own college days he
had been the lightweight champion