Part 19 (1/2)

”Shall I stop, sir?” said Stover.

”Heaven forbid!”

Stover completed the page with a graphic, rus.h.i.+ng account of the athletic exercises of the ancient Germans, and sat down without a smile.

The Roman, back at his post, wiped his eyes with his handkerchief and spoke:

”Very well run, indeed, Stover; excellently well run. Take your breath. Very fluent, very vivid, very persuasive--a trifle free, a trifle--but, on the whole, a very creditable performance. Very! I was sure, whatever you did, Stover, you wouldn't bore us. Now, let us see how the same pa.s.sage will appeal to a more prosaic, less richly-endowed mind.”

Then Red Dog rose and, unfeelingly, brought the scene back to Rome and the deliberations of the Senate.

But this was a detail that did not interest d.i.n.k in the least. He had clashed with The Roman and not retreated. He had his first moment of triumph, attested by the admiring glances of the cla.s.s and the m.u.f.fled whisper of Straus, saying:

”Gee, you're a peach!”

The session ended with a solemn warning from The Roman.

”One word,” he said in his deepest tones, ”just one word to the wise.

We have journeyed together for two whole terms; there is only one more between you and rea.s.signment. Candor compels me to say that you have acquired not even a flunking knowledge.” He turned and raked the awed ranks with the sweep of a pivot gun, and then took up again in cutting, chilling, s.p.a.ced syllables: ”I have, in the course of my experience as a teacher, had to deal with imbeciles, had to deal with mere idiots; but for sheer, determined, _monumental_ asininity I have never met the equal of this aggregation. I trust this morning's painful, disgraceful, disheartening experience may never, never be repeated. You may go.”

And Stover, who had brazenly planned to remain and converse, went swiftly out with the rest, little imagining that he whom he had ranked as a deadly, unforgiving foe sat a long while chuckling over the marvelous route d.i.n.k had gone, murmuring gratefully to himself:

”Wherever the wind blew him, Caesar initiated the orators.”

VIII

In the hallway the Coffee-colored Angel jabbed him with his elbow, muttering:

”You laughed at me, you miserable Rinky d.i.n.k. I'll fix you for that.”

He disappeared swiftly. Before d.i.n.k could frame a reply he was surrounded by an admiring chorus. The Tennessee Shad and Macnooder shook hands with ceremony.

”You'll do,” said the Tennessee Shad.

”You certainly will!” said Doc Macnooder.

”You've made a hit with Lucius Ca.s.sius,” said the Tennessee Shad.

d.i.n.k shook his head; he knew better.

”You must always recite--always,” said Doc Macnooder, from his great knowledge of the nature of masters. ”Whether you're prepared or not--recite.”

”I will,” said d.i.n.k.

”And say, d.i.n.k,” said Macnooder, ”keep that outfit we sold you.

There'll be more hayseeds in the fall.”

d.i.n.k had thought of that; he had thought of something else, too, which he craftily hid in his own memory.