Bill Appleby and "Mista" Laloo, the rival livery men, Bill Orum, the cobbler, Barnum of the village store, even Doc Cubberly, the bell-ringer, with his little dog, stopped to watch him pass. When he crossed the campus youngsters gambolled up to his side with solicitous inquiries and the inevitable: "Say, weren't you awfully scared?" Even in the classroom the Roman, after flunking him, would say: "That will do now, Smith. You may sit down--gently." So he was now "Old Ironsides." He liked the name and was proud of it. It had a certain grim, uncompromising sternness about it that lent it dignity. It sounded well and it had patriotic associations. For a whole week he knew the intoxication of popularity, of being the celebrity of the hour, of the thrill that runs up and down the back when a dozen glances are following, and the music of a murmured name, admiringly pronounced. Then abruptly another hero was exalted and he fell. One evening after supper, while the fourth form lounged on the esplanade of the Upper, Turkey Reiter and Slugger Jones amused themselves with teasing Goat Phillips, who, being privileged by his diminutive size, responded by butting his tormentors in vigorous fashion. "My, what an awful rambunctious, great big Goat," said Reiter, defending himself. "Do goats eat neckties?" "I'll eat yours," responded the youngster recklessly. "Ten double jiggers to one you can't do it," said Slugger Jones, lazily. "Give me the tie," responded Phillips. More to continue the joke than for any other reason, Turkey detached the green and yellow cross tie, which was his joy, and tendered it. What was his amazement to see Goat Phillips calmly set to work to devour it, and to devour it to the very last shred in the most classic goat-fashion. When he had swallowed the last mouthful he stood stock-still and gazed at his shrieking audience. Then he began to have doubts; then he began to have premonitions. Then he ended by having settled on rather the most unsettling convictions. The consideration of the act came after the accomplishment, but it came with terrifying force. What would happen now? "Turkey," he said, grown very solemn, "you don't think I'm going to be poisoned, do you?" Turkey became serious at once. Everyone became serious. "What do you fellows think?" said Turkey, addressing the crowd. No one had any opinions to volunteer. There were no precedents to go by. "He might get ptomaine poisoning," finally suggested Shy Thomas. "What's that?" said Goat, horrified. Shy was forced to confess that he did not know. Hungry Smeed thought it was when you cut your toe on an oyster shell. "See here, Goat," said Turkey, decisively, "we can't fool with this any more. You come with me." The now thoroughly demoralised and penitent Goat went meekly between Turkey and Slugger toward Foundation House. But on the way, encountering the Roman, they decided to consult him instead.