All eyes were turned upon him. A look of rectitude,
dovelike and too good to be true, came over many faces.
"Good morning!" said the young man, removing his cap, coat, and
overshoes. Some nodded, dumb with timidity. Only a few little
ones had the bravery to speak up, as they gave back the words in a
tone that would have fitted a golden text. He came to the roaring
stove and stood a moment, warming his hands. A group of the big
boys were in a corner whispering. Two were sturdy and quite six
feet tall,--the Beach boys.
"Big as a bull moose," one whispered,
"An' stouter," said another.
The teacher took a pencil from his pocket and tapped the desk.
"Please take your seats," said he.
All obeyed. Then he went around with the roll and took their
names, of which there were thirty-four.
"I believe I know your name," said Trove, smiling, as he came to
Polly Vaughn.
"I believe you do," said she, glancing up at him, with half a smile
and a little move in her lips that seemed to ask, "How could you
forget me?"
Then the teacher, knowing the peril of her eyes, became very
dignified as he glanced over the books she had brought to school.
He knew it was going to be a hard day.
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