"I think we might be allowed to select our own desks," grumbled Bart, and, as the possibility of the two rivals drawing adjacent desks was thus suggested, the others became all attention. Though he gave no indication of the fact, the headmaster had overheard Bart's remark, and for that reason called Fred to make the first selection, announcing "seventeen" as he read the slip the youth handed him. "That's the best desk in the Second Form section," whispered several of the boys, while Buttons and Soda patted their chum lovingly on the back when he returned to his seat between them. As one name after another was called, Bart became more and more glum, his sober face evidencing that he felt slighted at being compelled to wait. "There's Clothespin, the new boy," murmured Soda, as Bronson walked awkwardly forward. "Wouldn't it be rich if he drew a better desk than Bart?" "Eighteen," announced Mr. Vining. And the allotment proceeded till only Bart was left. Eagerly the students had listened as one number after another was called and such close attention did they pay that it was not necessary for them to hear the figure "thirty-three" read to know that the only desk remaining for Bart was in the front row. "I won't sit there!" growled the rich lad, as the fateful number was announced. "If a newcomer can force _me_ into the front row, I'll do my studying at home." "That is not the Baxter spirit, my boy," chided the headmaster. "You had an equal chance with the rest. Furthermore, it is very impolite to Mr. Bronson." "I don't care. I won't sit way up front," retorted Bart, his ungovernable temper making him regardless of consequences. This challenge of authority drove the kindly expression from Mr. Vining's face, and he cleared his voice to speak when Fred stood up, exclaiming: "Montgomery can have my desk, and _I'll_ sit up front." "Thank you, Fred. Bart, because of Fred's sacrifice, you can have number seventeen. Bronson, I regret you should have suffered such rudeness at the hands of any Baxter boy." This open rebuke to the haughty Bart delighted Fred's champions, and when the desks for the two other Forms had been assigned, they gloated over it as they filed outdoors. In passing out it so happened that Fred and Bart were brought face to face. "Grand-stand player!" hissed the bully. "I don't play to grand stands, and you know it, Bart Montgomery. I was only thinking of the honor of Baxter," retaliated Fred. "A Markham talking of honor," rejoined Bart. Unknown to the boys, Mr. Vining had come up behind them, and, as he heard the bully's unkind words, he said: "Fred, you may forget what I told you this morning." CHAPTER IV BRONSON'S CREDENTIALS