"
"Glad to know you intend to help us fight the Indians," answered
Tom innocently.
"Me fight der Indians? Vot you means py dot?" demanded Hans, his
light-blue eyes wide open with interest.
"Why, don't you know that we are here to learn how to fight
Indians?" went on Tom, with a side wink at those around him.
"No; I dink me dis vos von school only."
"So it is -- a school to learn how to shoot and scalp."
"Schalp! Vot's dot?"
"Cut an Indian's top-knot off with a knife, this way," and Tom
made an imaginary slash at Hans' golden locks.
"Ton't do dot!" stammered the German boy, falling back. "No, I
ton't vant to learn to schalp, noputty."
"But you are willing to fight the Indians, are you not?" put in
Sam. "We are all going to do that, you know."
"I ton't like dem Indians," sighed Hans. "I see me some of dem
vonde by a show in Chermany, und I vos afraid."
At this a laugh went up. How much further the joke would have
been carried it is impossible to say, but just then a bell rang
and the boys had to go into the classroom. But Tom remembered
about the Indians, as the others found out about a week later.
As the majority of the scholars had been to the Hall before, it
did not take long for matters to become settled, and in a few days
all of the boys felt thoroughly at home, that is, all but Jim
Caven, who went around with that same sneaking look on his face
that Tom had first noticed. He made but few friends, and those
only among the smaller boys who had plenty of pocket money to
spend.
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