of bad eggs. Fate, he told himself as he left the lunch room, was playing him some shabby and diabolical tricks when the fellows he admired most would have none of him and those that the school viewed as trouble-makers accepted him as a prophet.
George Praska, already arrived in Room 13, called to him a greeting as he entered. Had George appeared to be at all uncomfortable Perry might have experienced a soothing sense of compensation. But the football guard's unchanged friendliness stung. To Perry it was a sign that Praska viewed lightly the happenings of the morning. Scorn he could have met with scorn; but indifference from one he had rated as his friend rankled.
And then came a reckless desire to show them all that he did not care a fig for their opinions. A fresh attendance sheet was on Mr. Banning's desk. There were the A. M. and the P. M. columns. He found his name, moved his pencil out to the afternoon file and wrote:
25c-2-1
The next boy to go up to the desk to register stared, looked down the room at Perry, and stared again. Perry chuckled. Then Hammond, the quarterback, saw it, and called Praska and Littlefield, the right end. This time Perry
