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Enid and Pretty, being great lovers of fresh air, took many a long walk on the country roads about Lakerim. One day, when the air was as exhilarating and as electric as the bubbles in a glass of ice-cream soda, they took a much longer stroll than usual. Then they made a sudden decision to turn homeward; for, rounding a sharp bend in the road, they saw coming toward them three burly tramps.
When such things are erased it doesn't much matter; but there are occasions when it hurts to have Father Time come along and blot out the work you have taken great pains with and have put your heart into. Twelve young gentlemen in the town of Lakerim were feeling decidedly blue over just such an occasion. You may not find the town of Lakerim on the map in your geography.
He could just keep awake long enough to light his student lamp; then he dropped on his divan, and buried his head in a red-white-and-blue cushion his best Lakerim girl had embroidered for him in a fearful and wonderful manner, and was soon dozing away into a dreamland where the whole world was one great football, and he was kicking it along the Milky Way, scoring a touch-down every fifty years.
"Who ate it?" cawed the Crows. "The Dozen!" moaned MacManus. And that was the last straw that broke the Crows' backs. They threatened all sorts of revenge, and some of the smaller-minded of them went to the Faculty and suggested that the best thing that could be done was to expel the Lakerim men in a body.
When the fatal moment of their meeting arrived, though the Senior was much bigger than Pretty, the Lakerim youth did not run at least, he ran no farther than was necessary to clear a good space for the use of a little single-stick exercise. Pretty was no boxer, but he was a firm believer in the value of a good stout cane.
Pretty had not been home long on his Christmas vacation before he called at the home of the beautiful girl Enid, who had helped him win so many tennis games, and who was the best of all the best girls he devoted himself to, either in Kingston, Lakerim, or any other of the towns he blessed with his smiling presence.
As for Enid, I will leave you to guess whether or no she thought Pretty the greatest hero of his age, or any age, and whether or no she gossiped his bravery all around Lakerim long after the Dozen were away again in Kingston.
And Reddy, who had been burning up with patriotic zeal for the glory of Lakerim, was so proud of his brother's success in stirring up a warlike spirit that he moved over, and sat down beside him on the window-seat, and put his arms around him, and they never quarreled again till after supper. But the chance came sooner than any of them expected.
There was great rejoicing in Kingston that night, much croaking of tin horns, and much building of bonfires. The athletic year had been remarkably successful, and every one realized the vital part played in that success by the men from Lakerim the Dozen, who had made some enemies, as all active people must, and had made many more friends, as all active people may.
When some of his friends were pouring cold water on this Senior's bruised head a few minutes later, he poured cold water on their scheme to attempt to carry out what he had failed in, for he said: "Don't you ever go up against that Lakerim fellow; his cane works like a Gatling gun."
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