"Look here, Bronson, you mustn't take things so seriously. This note is just to scare you. It doesn't mean anything. If you don't let me see it, we can't get back at the boys who sent it." A moment more Bronson hesitated, then reluctantly handed it to Fred. The note ran as follows: "Clothespin, bring your credentials to the Witches' Pool by eight o'clock to-night. By order of the Big Six. Show this to Cotton-Top at your peril." "That's some of Soda's doings," said Fred. "I'm not surprised he didn't want you to let me know about it. But I wonder what he means by your credentials?" "Why, the papers I must get to show I am a member of the Second Form, I suppose." "What papers? Who's been telling you such stuff?" "Soda." And briefly Bronson related to his new friend the incidents of his reception when he introduced himself. So absorbed had both boys been in the note that not until the creaking of a door, cautiously opened, reached his ears did Fred realize the conspirators were on the lookout to see when the note was discovered. But at the tell-tale sound, he grabbed Bronson by the arm, and with a whispered "Come with me," led him rapidly out the side door and round to the back of the building. "Where are you going?" eagerly inquired his companion, as Fred slackened his pace. "To get even with Soda, of course." "But he hasn't done anything to you." "Oh, yes, he has. He knows I am showing you around, so anything he does to you is the same as though he did it to me; see?" "Yes, I see," returned Bronson slowly, adding quickly, "I wonder if the other boys would have been so decent to me, if you hadn't taken me in tow?" "Of course they would." But Bronson held a different opinion, though he did not say so, and all the way to the village store, whither Fred led him, he thanked his lucky stars that the fair-haired boy had taken him under his protection. Arrived at the store, Fred walked to the back part and asked of the clerk: "Got any very smelly limburger cheese?" "Sure." "How much is it?" "Fifty cents a pound." "Then give me half a pound of the very smelliest." "I'll pay for it," said Bronson, as the package was delivered to them, adding, in fear that Fred might think his offer reflected on his position, "it's only fair, you know, because you are helping me out of a hole." "All right. Now, we'll get a box, and you write on a card, 'My Credentials--Clothespin,' then we'll have it wrapped up." When this had been done, Fred persuaded the clerk to address the package to "The Big Six, Care of Mr. Soda Billings, Baxter High School." "I wish we could be there when they open it," exclaimed Bronson, as they returned to the school building. "We'll be in on the fun, don't worry. Just stay outside, here, and I will deliver your credentials." Cautiously Fred entered No. 1, laid the box on Soda's desk, and bolted out of the door. CHAPTER V BRONSON TURNS THE TABLES