There were many mutterings, some cat-calls and at least a score of men rose. "You let me alone, you fellows!" yelled Bert Dodge, as he made a break for the front end of the car. "Don't any of you dare to get fresh with me!" By the time he had reached the front end of the car Bert was almost sobbing with anger and shame. Bayliss had followed, white and silent. In the baggage car, to their relief, the sole railway employee there did not object to their presence. Bert and his crony found seats on two trunks side by side. "Dodge," whispered Bayliss unsteadily, after the train had pulled out from Tottenville, "I'm afraid we're in bad with the school push." "Afraid?" sneered Bert. "Man, don't you know it?" "Well, it's all your fault---this whole confounded row!" "Oh, you're going to play welsher, are you?" sneered Bert. "Humph! By morning you'll be a full-fledged mucker!" "Don't you worry about that," argued Bayliss, though rather stiffly. "I know my family---and my caste." "I should hope so," rejoined Dodge, with just a shade more cordiality. Rather than alight at Gridley, and face the whole High School crowd---for scores who had not been able to meet the expense of the trip to Tottenville would be sure to be at the station to meet the victorious team---Bert and Bayliss rode on to the next station, then got off and walked two miles back to town. By Monday morning the punishment of the pair was made complete. Bert and Bayliss walked to school together. As they drew near the grounds both young men felt their hearts beating faster. "I wonder if there's anything in for us?" whispered Dodge. "Sure to be," responded Bayliss. "Well, the fellows had better not try anything too frisky. If they do, they'll give us a chance to make trouble for 'em!" It seemed as though the full count of the student body, boys and girls, had assembled in the yard this morning. All was gay noise until the pair of cronies appeared at the gate. Then, swiftly, all the noise died out. One could hardly hear even a breath being drawn. The silence was complete as Bert and Bayliss, now very white, stepped into the yard. Though not a voice sounded, every eye was turned on the white-faced pair. Bert Dodge's lips moved. He tried to summon us control enough of his tongue to utter some indifferent remark to his companion. But the sound simply wouldn't come. After a walk that was only a few yards in distance, yet seemed only less than a mile in length, the humiliated pair rushed up the steps, opened the great door and let themselves in. At recess neither Bayliss nor Dodge had the courage to appear outside. As they left school that afternoon they were treated to the same dose of "silence." Tuesday morning neither Dodge nor Bayliss showed up at all at school. On Thursday morning High School readers of "The Blade" were greatly interested in the following personal paragraph: