When Matt came to the school he aroused Perry's instant and unreasoning dislike. From the best athlete among the seniors Perry was relegated to the position of second best; and this, for one of his spoiled disposition and arrogant ways, constituted an offense not to be forgiven. Now, for the first time, the strained relations existing between Matt and Perry had come to an open break. Baffled in his plot to give Matt a thrashing, Perry trotted sullenly and silently back toward the bridge across the canal. Before the bridge was reached his spirits had brightened a little, for his crafty mind had found something in the present situation that pleased him. "See here, fellows," said Perry abruptly, coming to a halt and gathering his followers around him, "you all saw Matt King throw that stone at Clip, didn't you?" "It wasn't him," piped Tubbits Drake; "it was Nutmegs, although it looked mighty like King did it." "I say it was King," scowled Perry. "Oh, well," grumbled Tubbits, "if you say it was King, all right." Tubbits was an impecunious brother. He was always trying to borrow two-bits--in other words, a quarter--from his large and select list of acquaintances, and the habit had resulted in the nickname of "Two-bits," later shortened to "Tubbits." "I say it," went on Perry, "and you've all got to swear to it. Savvy? If any one says anything different, I'll punch his head. Chums are like those French guys in the 'Three Musketeers'--one for all, and all for one. What one chum does, the other has to stand for. King and Nutmegs are chums, see? So, even if King didn't really throw that rock, he'll have to take the consequences on Chub's account. Clip _thinks_ King did it, and there's been trouble. Just let Clip keep on thinking the way he does." "Sure," said Ratty Spangler. "If anybody wants to know about who shied the rock, we'll all say it was the tenderfoot." "That's all," responded Perry curtly, and trotted on to the bridge. Just as Perry had imagined would be the case when he brought about this peculiar understanding concerning the one who threw the stone, Tom Clipperton was on the other side of the canal, waiting for his team-mates to come up with him. Clipperton's scanty running-garb was wet through, but that was a mere trifle and didn't bother him. He had bound a handkerchief about his injured forehead, and was thinking moodily of the easy way in which he had been handled by Matt. Perry went up to him and dropped a friendly hand on his shoulder. "How're you coming, Clip?" he asked. Clipperton grunted petulantly, shook off the hand and started along the road. Perry, used to his moods, fell in at his side and caught step with him. "It was a low-down trick, Clip," said Perry, with feigned sympathy, "but just about what any one could expect from a fellow like King."