So the next boy who rudely shoved me aside and knocked my hat off received a painful surprise, for my right fist came so hard against his cheekbone that he stood for a moment as though stunned. Then he moved, and I moved, and the boys standing near could hardly tell which was which until we separated, pretty well bruised. After that the boys were careful not to knock my hat off my head; if they did, they took pains to let me know that it was not intentional. I told Brush about this set-to, and he approved of it. "That's right," he said; "fight any of them, even if you know that you're going to get licked; then they won't tease you." My father was the principal chief of the tribe and leader of the village of the "Make-believe white-men;" he had plenty of horses, the standard of Indian wealth, yet that did not entitle me to a place in any of the different "gangs" in the school; I had to show that I was not afraid to stand up and fight. Even good-natured Brush had to bristle up at times and engage in a lively tussle, else there would have been no peace for him. Now I was wanted by the smaller "gangs" and invited by them to their places of sport; but Brush held on to me and kept me out. Among the boys there was the "gang" of the "Big Seven" which Brush had been trying to enter; but, for some reason which I did not then understand, they would not admit him. He did not care to go into any of the "gangs" of smaller boys, of which there were quite a number. I thought the "Big Seven" did not want him, because he was too small; but later I found out there was another reason for it. As time passed, I learned more and more of the peculiar ways of the boys at the school, of the teachers, and of my books. It was not long before I felt quite at home and independent; but Brush and I were still without a "gang." Chapter II Brush "Frank, you're learning fast!" said Brush one afternoon as I was laboriously writing my lesson on a slate with his help. "I'm glad; I want you to catch up with me so we can be in the same classes." I felt proud of his praise and worked all the harder. We had gone through the alphabet swimmingly, and once, when I said it without a break, he slapped me on the shoulder and exclaimed, "That's good!" When I was able to read short sentences, I felt quite sure that I should soon take my place among the advanced pupils. In and out of school Brush helped me along; in our play and when our work brought us together, he always managed to teach me something of the English language, and I was a willing student because he taught me in a way that made the work a pleasure. Gray-beard, not knowing what a kind and patient assistant he had in Brush, thought he had in me an exceptionally bright scholar, for I made rapid headway in learning to speak English, won several promotions, and soon found myself in the Second Reader class.