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"I can't accept money, sir, for an act of humanity."
"Oh! But I think I can convince you, my boy, that you _can_."
"I'm equally sure that you can't Mr. Ripley," persisted the freshman, smiling. "But again I thank you for the intention."
Lawyer Ripley was a good deal of a judge of human character.
He began to feel sure that the freshman was speaking the truth.
Just at that moment some one entered the outer office. Mr. Ripley glanced out, then said:
"I shall have to ask you to excuse me for a few moments. Fred, of course you have just thanked Mr. Prescott again for his heroic act?"
"N-n-no, sir," stammered Fred.
"When I return I don't want to have to hear another answer like that," warned the lawyer, sternly. Then he closed the door behind him.
d.i.c.k turned, with a dry smile.
"Since you're under orders to thank me, Fred, get it over with quickly," laughed the freshman. "I'll help you all I can."
Young Ripley's better nature really was stirred for a moment.
"Of course I thank you, Prescott," he stammered. "It was a splendid thing for you to do. I---I don't know as I had any right to expect it, either, for I've been pretty mean to you."
"I know," replied d.i.c.k, with the same dry smile. "You put Tip Scammon up to the High School locker thefts, to get me in disgrace, and unlucky Tip had to go to jail for it."
Fred Ripley glared at the freshman with terror-stricken eyes.
Then, without warning, Fred made a leap for ward, to clutch d.i.c.k by the throat.
CHAPTER XXII
THE ONLY FRESHMEN AT THE SENIOR BALL
Side-stepping, the freshman put up one arm to ward off further attack.
"Come, don't start a fight here, Fred," d.i.c.k cautioned the other, in a low tone. "For one thing, you couldn't win anyway. Besides, your father would hear the racket and come in."
"How do you know I put Tip up to that job?" demanded young Ripley, his face as white as chalk. "Did Tip tell you all about it?"
"Not a word."
"Then you don't know," cried Fred, in sudden triumph.
"If I didn't," grinned d.i.c.k, "you've just confessed it."
"You tricked me---I mean it's a lie."
"No; it isn't, either," a.s.serted d.i.c.k, coolly. "Though the second chap, in that mix-up in Stetson's alley one night, got away before I had time to recognize his face in the black darkness there, yet as I fell and grabbed for the chap's ankle, I noticed his trousers with the lavender stripe. I had seen those trousers on you before, Fred, and you're wearing them again at this minute."
Fred glanced downward, starting.
"You see," insisted the freshman, "there's no sense in denying that you put Tip up to the game that got him into the penitentiary."
"How many have you told this to?" demanded Fred, fright showing in his face.
"My chums suspect," d.i.c.k answered, frankly. "I'm pretty sure I haven't told anyone else."
"Good thing you haven't, then," retorted Fred, recovering some of his usual impudence. "My father is a lawyer, and he'd know how to make you smart if you started libelous yarns about me."
"Your father being a lawyer, I think he would also be likely to show an investigating turn of mind. You can put it up to your father if you want to, Fred."
Young Ripley winced. Prescott laughed lightly.
"Now, see here, Fred, I don't want to live on bad terms with anyone.
You've got good points, I'm sure you have."
"Oh, thank you," rejoined the soph.o.m.ore, with exaggerated sarcasm.
"And I'll be glad to begin being on good terms with you at any time, if you should ever really want such a thing," continued the freshman. "If you were a thoroughly good fellow, wholly on the level, like Badger, Thomp, Purcell, or any one of scores of fellows that we know, then I'd hate to know that you didn't like me. But, as to the kind of fellow you've sometimes shown yourself to be, Fred, I've been really glad that I wasn't your sort and didn't appeal to you."
At this style of talk the soph.o.m.ore seemed all but crushed with mortification.
"Come, Fred," pursued d.i.c.k, not waiting for the other to answer, "be a different sort of chap. Make up your mind to go through the High School, and through life afterwards, dealing with everybody on the square. Be pleasant and honest---be a high-cla.s.s fellow---and everyone will like you and seek your friends.h.i.+p.
That's all I've got to say."
"It's quite enough to say," retorted Ripley, but he spoke in a low voice that had in it no trace of combative energy.
"Well, boys, how are matters going?" asked Lawyer Ripley, reentering.
"Fred, have you remedied your boorishness by thanking Prescott?"
"Oh, yes, he has thanked me," d.i.c.k replied, cheerily. "And we've been chatting about---some other matters. And now, Mr. Ripley, if you will excuse me, I feel that I must run along."
I have other things that I really must attend to."
"Won't you be more sensible, and let me make you a duplicate to the check you tore up?" asked the lawyer.
"Thank you, sir; but I don't want to; couldn't, in fact. My father and mother would be ashamed of me if I took home a check for such a service. Good afternoon, Mr. Ripley. So long, Fred."
d.i.c.k went out of the lawyer's offices almost breezily. Fred even found the nerve to respond to d.i.c.k's parting salutation with something very close to an air of cordiality.
The instant he reached the street d.i.c.k took in several deep breaths.
"Whew! It seems mighty good to be in the fresh air once more, after being in the same room with Fred Ripley," muttered the freshman.