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"Phosphorus evidently," muttered Hamilton to himself, but he did not want to interrupt the lad now that he had started, and therefore did not discuss the point. "He walked right up to the teacheh's table," continued the younger boy, "an' he pointed the horn at him, accordin' to one o' the boys who says he was peepin' through his fingers. I wasn't lookin', I wasn't takin' any chances.
"About half an hour after that, one o' the boys dropped his slate pencil on the floor an' it broke, so he asked the teacheh for a new one. The slates 'n' pencils was kep' on a shelf over the teacheh's chair, an' he got on the chair to reach one down.
Suddenly, jes' after a clap o' thunder that sounded almos' as if it had hit the schoolhouse Ol' Blacky Baldwin walked through the door an' up to the teacheh's table. He was carryin a twisted thing in his hand, like a ram's horn, an' I knew it was his cunjerin' horn, although I hadn't even seen it befo'." "What did the master say when he came in?" "Nary a word.
He thought perhaps it might be that the boy was unusually dull and so he asked: "Are you still going to school?" A negative shake of the head was the only reply. "Why not? Isn't there a school near where you live?" "Close handy, 'bout five miles," was the reply. "Then why don't you go there?" questioned Hamilton further. "Teacheh's gone." "Funny time for holidays," the city boy remarked.
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