He wore a grey flannel suit, a cap to match, and rubber-soled tan shoes. It was doubtless the latter which accounted for his unsuspected appearance on the scene. His brown eyes travelled from one to another of the little group inquiringly.
"I hope I don't intrude," he observed politely.
"I'm afraid you do, a bit," responded Amy calmly.
"They're two against one!" cried Dreer shrilly. "I didn't do a thing to them! He--he knocked me down, and cut my face, and--"
"Easy, easy!" The stranger held up a hand. "I thought from what I saw that this gentleman was quite neutral. How about it?" He turned to Clint.
"Yes, sir," answered the latter.
"I thought so. Then it's you two who are engaged in this encounter, eh? I presume it's a gentleman's affair! All fair and ship-shape?"
"Quite within the rules of civilised warfare, sir," assured Amy with a smile.
"I see. In that case don't let me detain you. Proceed with the matter in hand. Unless, that is, I may act as mediator? Is the--the question in dispute one which is open to arbitration?"
"I'm afraid not," answered Amy. "The fact is, sir, this fellow has a lamentable habit of speaking disrespectfully of his school. I have warned him that I didn't like it and he persists. What I--"
"It isn't that, sir!" cried Dreer passionately. "He says I--I broke Durkin's fiddle, and I didn't, and the rest is only an excuse to--to fight me! He hasn't any right--"
"Dreer!" protested Amy. "I've explained, even insisted that the incident of the violin has nothing to do with this--er--salutary punishment I am inflicting. I wish you wouldn't confuse things so!"
The stranger grinned. "Seems to me," he said, "all that is necessary then is for the gentleman with the ensanguined cheek to withdraw whatever derogatory remarks he may have injudiciously used. What do you think?" He appealed politely to Clint.
"Yes, sir, I--I suppose so," Clint agreed.
"That's so," said Amy, "but he is also under treatment for lapse of memory, sir, or perhaps I should say for hesitancy of speech. I am hoping that presently he will remember who did break the violin and tell us. Have we your permission to continue, sir?"
"Hm." The man's eyes twinkled appreciatively as he returned Amy's ingenuous regard. "I see that my offer of good offices was premature. Pray let the argument proceed. With your permission I'll stand by and see that everything is as it should be."
Dreer's amazement was ludicrous. "You--you mean you're going to let him knock me down again?" he demanded incredulously.
"Seems to me," replied the stranger judicially, "it's up to you whether he knocks you down. Why don't you turn the tables and do the knocking down yourself? It's a beautiful morning you've chosen, gentlemen."
"I won't fight, I tell you!" screamed Dreer. "I'll tell Fernald of this and you'll all be expelled!"
"We won't worry about that yet, Dreer," said Amy. "Come on, now. Let's get through with this."
"Keep away from me!" Dreer cried. Then he appealed to the stranger. "Make him let me alone, won't you, sir, please? I--I told him I'd do anything he said!"
"Oh, did you?" asked the man. "Then hold on a bit. What is it you want him to do, you chap in the shirt-sleeves?"
"I want him to acknowledge that he has been terribly mistaken about the school, for one thing."
"You do acknowledge that, don't you?" asked the man.
Dreer nodded almost eagerly. Amy viewed him doubtfully.
"Perhaps it would be well for him to state that he considers Brimfield Academy to be, to the best of his knowledge, the finest school in the world."
"I--I do think so," agreed Dreer sullenly. "I was just fooling."
"In fact," pursued Amy, "compared to Claflin School, Brimfield is as a gem of purest ray to a--a pebble, Dreer? You are convinced of that, are you not?"
"I suppose so."
"Only--suppose, Dreer? Couldn't you be absolutely certain?"
"Yes, I--I'm certain."
"Fine! Now, in regard to that violin, Dreer, which, you know, has nothing to do with our recent altercation. Could you find it convenient to tell us who sneaked into Durkin's room and cracked it?"
"No, I couldn't," muttered Dreer.
"You see, sir?" Amy appealed to the stranger. "Memory still pretty bad!"
"Hm, yes, I see. You think--ah--"
"Absolutely certain, sir."
"Then, perhaps, a little more--treatment--"
"My idea exactly, sir!" Amy advanced toward Dreer again, hands up. Dreer looked about at the unrelenting faces, and,
"I'll tell!" he cried. "I did it. Durkin hit me. You were there; you saw him!" He appealed to Clint. "And--and I told him I'd get even. So--so I did!" He looked defiantly about him. "I warned him."
Amy nodded and reached for his coat. The stranger held it for him and handed him his cap.
"Thank you, sir," said Amy. "That's all, Dreer. You may go."
"I--I'll get you into trouble for this, Byrd," called Dreer as he moved away. "You needn't think I'm through with you, you big bully!"
Amy made no response. The stranger was smiling amusedly at the two boys who remained, flicking his cane in and out of the fallen leaves beside the fence. "Everything quite satisfactory now?" he inquired.
"Yes, sir, thank you," replied Amy.
"You have a very direct way of getting results," continued the other. "Might I inquire your name?"
"Byrd, sir. And this is Thayer."
"Delighted to know you both. Mind if I stroll along with you? I'm an old boy myself, Byrd. Used to be here some five years ago. My name, by the way, is Detweiler."
"Oh!" said Amy. "You're going to help coach, aren't you, sir?"
"Yes, that's what I'm here for. Are you playing?"
"No, but Thayer is. He's on the second, that is. I hope you don't think we do this sort of thing regularly, Mr. Detweiler."
"No, I suspected that it was something rather extra," replied the other drily. "Think that he will--What's his name, by the way?"
"Harmon Dreer."
"Think he will make trouble for you, Byrd?"
Amy shrugged. "Not with faculty, I guess. He wouldn't dare. He may try to get back at me some other way, though. I'm not worrying. When did you get here, sir?"
"This morning, on the eight-something. Went to a house in the village that George Robey wrote me about and found a room, and then started out for a stroll and broke in on your innocent amusement. So far I've found the old place quite interesting!" And Mr. Detweiler chuckled.
"Hope you'll like it well enough to stay a good while, sir," said Amy.
"Thanks. Hello! There's a new hall since I was here! What do you call it?"
"The last one on the left, sir? That's Billings. I think it was built about three years ago."
"Aside from that things look about as they used to," mused the other. Then he turned to Clint. "So you're playing on the second, Thayer? How are you getting on? What do you play?"
"Pretty well, sir. I play tackle. I've had a bum knee for a week or so, though."
"How's the 'varsity shaping?"
"Very well, I'd say. We expect to lick Claflin again, sir."
"Do, eh? That's good. Football at Brimfield didn't amount to a great deal when I was here, but the old school's turned out some good elevens since then. Well, I'm glad to have met you chaps. Some day when you've got nothing better to do look me up in the village. I'm at Storer's, a little white house opposite the store and post office. Awfully glad to have you. And--er--by the way, if you need evidence, Byrd, in this little matter, call on me. Very glad to testify to the best of my knowledge. Good-bye."
Mr. Detweiler swung off in the direction of the gymnasium and the two boys, continuing toward Main Hall, looked after him interestedly.
"Gee, he's built for work, isn't he?" mused Amy. "Played tackle, didn't he?"
"Yes, and he was a dandy. Bet you he will do a lot of good here, Amy."
"He seems a level-headed sort," replied Amy. "I liked the way he minded his own business back there. Lots of men would have hopped around and got excited and said, 'Boys! Boys! This will never do!' He just made up his mind that everything was all right and said 'Go to it!'"
"I'm glad he came," acknowledged Clint. "I didn't want to see Dreer get any more, Amy."
"He needed a lot more," replied Amy grimly. "Personally, I was a bit sorry he fessed up so quick. I was hoping for another whack at him!"
"You're a bloodthirsty kid," marvelled Clint.
"I am?" Amy seemed surprised. "Don't you believe it, Clint. I'm as easy-going and soft-hearted as a suckling dove, whatever that is. Only, when some low-life like Dreer says this is a rotten school I don't care for it. And when he does a trick like the one he did with poor old Penny's fiddle I want to fight. Not, though, that you could call that little affair a fight," he added regretfully. "Why, the silly chump wouldn't even guard!"
"Do you reckon he will tell Josh?" asked Clint uneasily.
"No, I don't. He wouldn't care to have Josh know about the violin business. What he will do is to put arsenic in our tea some day, I guess."
"That's all right, then," laughed Clint. "I don't drink tea."
"Or, maybe, he'll drop a bomb through the transom some dark night."
"We'll keep it closed."
"Well, if I have to teach him behaviour again I won't stop so soon," said Amy. "I'm not sure I don't wish he would try some trick with me. I--do you know, Clint, I don't think I quite like that fellow!"
"Honest? I'd never have suspected it," Clint laughed. "Say, how many cuts did you take?"
"Two. And there's going to be trouble. But it was worth it!"
There was trouble, and Amy had to visit Mr. Fernald the next day and explain, as best he could, why he had missed two recitations. Unfortunately, Amy couldn't confide to the principal the nature of the business which had interfered with his attendance at classes, and his plea of indisposition was not kindly received. Still, he got off with nothing more serious than a warning, and thought himself extremely fortunate. Clint, who had cut only one "recit," received merely a reprimand from "Horace" and an invitation to make up the lost work.
Amy confided to Penny that evening that he and Dreer had had a misunderstanding regarding the respect due from a student to his school and that Dreer had sustained a cut cheek. And Penny nodded understandingly and said: "Much obliged, Byrd. I wish I might have seen it."
"Yes, it would have done you a lot of good," replied Amy cheerfully.