"I hope so, but I doubt it."
Dick was right. Though he had gained the victory he had whipped one of the most popular cadets, which Button was, in spite of his caddishness.
Our hero's victory took nothing away from the regard in which Dutton was held, while, as for Dick, save a few friends whom he had made among the younger lads, he was not admitted to the comradeship of the older cadets, to which place, of right, he belonged. The fight had not made him popular, as he had hoped it would, after he had won it, though the sporting element in the academy could not but admire his fistic abilities.
"I don't seem to be making much progress," remarked Dick to his roommate, one afternoon. "You have more friends than I have."
"Oh, I don't think so."
"Yes, you have. It would be different, if I was at home, but here, everyone seems to follow Dutton's lead, and turns a cold shoulder to me."
"Maybe you'll have more acquaintances next term."
"I doubt it. I wish I could get in with the fellows. They'll be making up the football eleven, soon, and I'd like a chance to play."
"Do you play?"
"I did at home. I was right half-back. But I don't s'pose I'll have any show here."
"I tell you what you might do," said Paul,
