"I have one of your lost sheep, Mr. Harris," Bud's escort said.
"Come in and join the class, sheep," Mr. Harris said, smiling.
The class tittered and Bud writhed. The only refuge he knew was defiance.
"Don't call me names!" he shouted. "I'm not a sheep!"
"You're not very polite, either," Mr. Harris said without raising his voice. "What is your name?"
The class tittered again and Bud's mortification mounted as he choked out,
Mr. Harris consulted his class roll. "It says here you're Allan Sloan."
"I don't care what it says!" Bud shouted again. "My name's Bud!"
All at once he found himself sitting on the floor. Lights danced in his head. He blinked owlishly, and as if from a great distance, he heard Mr. Harris say,
"Get up, Allan. Your seat is the third one in the first row. Take it."
Bud walked to his seat and the class was subdued. Bud sat in sullen silence for the rest of the morning. When noon came, he ate a lonely lunch and when the dismissal gong sounded at the end of the day he was the first to rise.
"You're to stay after school, Allan," Mr. Harris said.
Scowling, Bud sat down again and watched his classmates whoop out to freedom. As though he had forgotten all about Bud or perhaps because Bud was too insignificant to notice, Mr. Harris methodically and calmly put his desk in order. Finally he looked up and said,
Mr. Harris led the way out through the rear entrance and Bud gulped as they neared the parking lot. He would have run if his legs would have obeyed him, but since they would not, he got into Mr. Harris's car. They started up the road toward the Bennetts' farm, and after they were out of town, Mr. Harris said,
Bud said nothing as Mr. Harris continued, "You had it coming and you know it. I know exactly what you were thinking and why. Stop thinking it.
"Let me tell you about another boy," Mr. Harris said, "another orphan. He was farmed out when he was just about your age, and he went to a new school exactly as you did. Inside, he was frightened as a rabbit with five dogs and nine cats backing him into a corner, but he was afraid to let anyone else know that. The teacher reprimanded him and he shouted at him. Then, because he was convinced that only tough guys can get along, he hit the teacher with a chair. The boy was twelve when it happened. He was eighteen when he finally got out of reform school, and it was a reform school even if they called it a training school for boys."