"Quite possibly," agreed Phelps, suavely. "I never said he didn't, you old grumbler. He probably went past last night, but take my word for it he didn't turn in. You don't suppose that thickhead would have the gumption to do what this chap did, or the wit to know about paper being a non-conductor, and all that? Not in a thousand years!"
Bob's mouth set stubbornly; he was one who never lost a chance to argue. "I don't see it at all!" he retorted. "Just because you say so doesn't make him thick. I noticed you picking on him last night, and I tell you right now that anybody might seem--"
"He didn't _seem_ brainless--he _was_," interrupted Phelps with cool, scornful certainty. "A fellow who could manage to fall over his feet as many times as he did in that simple little drill, and make as many breaks--"
He paused suddenly and bit his lips. At the farther edge of the wide circle the face of Tompkins himself had loomed all at once into his surprised consciousness, and something in the boy's level, unsmiling, somber glance brought a twinge of shame to Ranleigh's heart. For an instant he stood silent, striving to resume his usual cool nonchalance. Then he turned away with a shrug.
"But after all," he drawled, "it's hardly worth while arguing about. Who's got that seventh problem in Geom? It's a sticker, all right."
It was well enough done to deceive most of the fellows about him, particularly since the sound of the last bell started the crowd up the steps and into the school building. But Court Parker had noted the direction of Ranny's glance, and a gleam of indignation flashed into his eyes. For a moment he stood biting his lips; then his face cleared and he pounced on Tompkins.
"Well, were you, Tommy!" he demanded airily.
"Was I what?" countered the other, briefly.
"The hero--the chap who leaped into the breach and saved Georgie Warren from a--a--an electrocutive finish." Court's metaphors might be mixed, but his vocabulary seldom lacked originality. Tompkins merely shrugged his shoulders and frowned a bit.
"Is it likely?" he asked, with a touch of bitterness. "Even if I'd had the chance, I'm too thick to--"
"Rot!" cut in Court, swiftly. As they went up the steps he flung an arm impulsively around the other's shoulders. "Don't you worry about anything Ranny Phelps says. Nobody ever pays any attention to him, anyhow. I do wish I knew who that plucky chap was, though. It was a corking thing to do. You haven't heard any one say, have you, Tommy?"