As for the other boys, none of them had suffered more than a sharp and sudden upset, with a “contusion” or so, as a surgeon would have described it, and they were quite willing to join their comrades in calling it a drawn battle. “That is,” explained Zeb Fuller, “our side’s drawn out. And now I hope we’ll be able to make it all right with old Sol. Mr. Vernon, it would delight me exceedingly if you would persuade Solomon to let you give him a boxing lesson and allow me to be personally present as spectator.” CHAPTER XXI GEORGE BRAYTON’S DRIVE George Brayton had been guilty of the most natural thing in the world that afternoon. He had spent the whole morning among his books, retorts, air-pumps, and other matters, over at the Academy building, and he desired something else for a change. That was his first visit to Ogleport, but, although well aware that there was plenty of fine scenery in the neighborhood, he had thus far made no further acquaintance with it than he had gained from the stage, as he was pulled through the clouds of dust on the north road the day of his arrival. The young “assistant” had therefore deliberately planned a sort of tour of investigation behind a fast horse, and he meant to have a good many more of the sort. In fact, he had entered into a commercial treaty with the one livery stable of Ogleport, down at Runner’s Tavern, to supply him from time to time with all the fast horses that he might need. So far, so good, but how can a young man enjoy fine scenery with no companion but a horse? Not very well, indeed, and, besides all that, there was nothing selfish about George Brayton, and he had instantly determined to share his first drive with merry Effie Dryer. He forgot, truly, to ask Effie’s stepmother for her permission, and had impudently driven up to the Doctor’s house after dinner, and proposed to wait until Miss Euphemia should complete any necessary preliminaries. And Euphemia? Dear little soul! She never once thought of refusing, nor did she waste any great amount of time over her simple toilet, but was ready with a promptness which went to George’s very heart, as anything so rare as that is quite likely to. And Mrs. Dryer sat with Brayton in the parlor, during those few minutes, and smiled on him in a way that showed to perfection the artwork of her dentist, but which did not disclose an atom of the gall and wormwood with which her heart had been stirred up when she saw him hitch his horse in front of the gate. It is barely possible that Effie knew more about it than Brayton, or why should she have manoeuvred with such graceful swiftness and such entire success to get into the parlor first? By the time Mrs. Dryer came, also, Effie had accepted the invitation to drive and “gone for her things,” although, as the former smilingly explained to George, “the Dorcas Society was to meet that afternoon, and Euphemia would be very much missed.” And he had calmly replied,