What he did not know was that Dick Merriwell would have done exactly the same had June not been concerned in any way. In such an emergency Dick would not have hesitated to go to the aid of any unfortunate human being caught in the fire-trap, casting aside all thoughts of friendship or enmity. “Oh, I know the fellow!” thought Chester. “He can’t deceive me with his mock heroism.” And he did not dream that he was a most ungrateful fellow to entertain such a thought. “I trust,” said Mrs. Arlington, “that in the future there may be no further misunderstandings between you and my son. It seems that at last you must be aware of the fact that Chester is a young gentleman and that it will be to your advantage to treat him as such. I am willing to overlook the past.” “Which is exceedingly kind of you!” said Dick, who could not entirely hide the sarcasm in his voice. “I think you should be equally generous,” declared the woman. “You can see how exceedingly popular my son is here at the school, and it must be plain that it will be to your benefit in the future to consult the wishes of one who has such a following.” Buckhart had drawn near, and he found it hard to keep from informing Mrs. Arlington that where her son had one real friend at Fardale Dick Merriwell had twenty. “But it’s not my funeral,” he muttered; “and I opine Dick won’t thank me for mixing in, so I’ll keep my tongue between my teeth.” Dick said nothing. It was impossible for him to speak the words he longed to utter, so he chose to remain silent. “I have entertained thoughts of taking my son out of this school,” continued Mrs. Arlington; “but have finally concluded to let him remain, even though his superior abilities have not been properly recognized here. I understand that you are in a class ahead of him, and, having been here longer, you are able to use your power to retard his advancement. This I regard as quite unjust, and I hope you will cease to interfere with him in the future.” “Don’t worry about that, madam,” said Dick. “I assure you that, in the future, as in the past, I will let him alone if he does not trouble me.” “But he is ambitious, and his ambitions here will be readily attained, I am sure, if your influence is not brought to bear against him.” “As long as he seeks to do me no injury, I shall let him quite alone, you may be sure of that.” “Then I see no reason why there should be further trouble. As for this matter of football, of course Chester will be unable to play this season. In fact, I do not wish him to play at all; but he has set his heart upon it, and I never deny him anything.” For that very reason she had spoiled her son, although he was not aware of it. “Next year,” she went on, “he may wish to play. If he remains here, I am sure that, by that time, his superiority will be so apparent that any jealous enemy will be quite unable to balk him.” In plain words, she meant that Dick was jealous of her son, and the idea made young Merriwell smile.