“No-o, not very. Two or three times he has stopped me and――and sort of teased me.” “How does he tease you?” “Oh, makes fun of me and makes me shake hands with him and hurts me a little. He presses his thumb in here.” Zo indicated the space between thumb and first finger. “I don’t mind much. Once, just after they caught me that time,――Pup Night, you remember,――he said he and some of the others were going to lay for me some night and give me that ducking. I was sort of scared for a while and used to wait for Mill or some one to go home with me, but I guess he was only talking. He doesn’t bother me much.” “He’s a silly ass,” said Barry, impatiently. “Some one ought to teach _him_ manners. I don’t suppose I could, but I’d be willing to try. You ought to have told Peaches or me about him before, Zo.” “I didn’t want to make――I didn’t want to have you think me such a baby. I guess I am a baby, though. I don’t know much about fighting, Barry.” “Well, you ought to know how to protect yourself, Zo, and when I can find the time――after football’s over――I’ll show you a little about boxing, if you like.” “Thanks,” murmured the other, in no very enthusiastic tones. “I don’t think I could ever be much of a fighter, though.” Barry laughed. “I don’t believe you could! But you’ll find that if you know how to use your fists you’ll not have to use them. Not very often, anyway. Fellows like Rusty don’t get funny with fellows who look as if they knew a thing or two. What were you doing with your violin to-day, Zo?” “I was playing for Mr. Sartier before dinner. He wants to start an orchestra here. He’s an awfully good pianist, Barry. We tried three or four things together and got along pretty well, I think.” “A school orchestra, eh? Sounds like a good scheme, Zo. I hope Frenchy makes it go. I’d a heap rather hear him play the piano than preside in French class. By the way, if it does come off I hope you’ll speak a good word for me, Zo. I’d like to join it.” Zo smiled doubtfully. “You don’t play any instrument, do you?” he asked. “Don’t I! You ought to hear me play the baton!” Barry’s amusement over his own joke didn’t survive the journey from the front gate to the house, however, and Betty, in sole occupancy of the sunlit porch, remarked: “You must have said something awfully funny to make Zo Fessenden laugh like that, but you don’t look now as if you’d ever joked in your life!” Barry sat down on the edge of the porch and smiled weakly. “I’m always saddest when I smile, Betty,” he answered. “Where’s every one?” Betty waved a slim hand vaguely. “Gone,” she said. “Let’s see. Father’s taking his walk, Mother’s gone to see Mrs. Travers, Peaches hasn’t shown up since dinner, and I’m here. Oh, yes――and Toby’s upstairs where he always is.”