At the instant of their entrance into the car the air had been full of merry chatter.

There were many High School girls in this car, and not many vacant seats.

As the word “sneaks” sounded through the car everyone turned around.

Bert and Bayliss found themselves uncomfortably conspicuous.

At once all the talk and laughter ceased.  Stony silence followed.

One of the girls was sitting alone in a seat.

Bayliss, unable to endure the situation any longer, glided forward, dropping into the vacant place.

“That seat is engaged,” the girl coolly informed him.

So Bayliss, redder than ever, hurriedly rose.

Bert had already started for the next car.  Bayliss slunk along after him.

“Sneaks!” cried some one, as they showed their faces in still the next car forward.

Here, too, all the chatter stormed at once.

Bert, pulling his hat down over his eyes, went hurriedly past the boys and girls of Gridley, and into the next car.

Bayliss followed with the fidelity and closeness of a little dog.

Now, the next car ahead proved to be the smoking car.  Here, at any rate, the despised pair could find safe harborage.

But one of the men of Gridley, who had followed the football team this day, and who had got an inkling of the story of the arrest, removed a cigar from between his lips and pointed an accusing finger at the boys.

“See here, you fellows!” he shouted.  “This car is exclusively for men.  Can you take a hint?”

“But we’ve got to sit somewhere,” flashed Bert defiantly.

“I don’t know as that’s necessary, either,” retorted the Gridley man.  “At least, I don’t care if it is.  After your dirty little trick, today, we don’t want you in here among men.  Do we, neighbors?”

There were many mutterings, some cat-calls and at least a score of men rose.

“You let me alone, you fellows!” yelled Bert Dodge, as he made a break for the front end of the car.  “Don’t any of you dare to get fresh with me!”

By the time he had reached the front end of the car Bert was almost sobbing with anger and shame.

Bayliss had followed, white and silent.

In the baggage car, to their relief, the sole railway employee there did not object to their presence.

Bert and his crony found seats on two trunks side by side.

“Dodge,” whispered Bayliss unsteadily, after the train had pulled out from Tottenville, “I’m afraid we’re in bad with the school push.”

“Afraid?” sneered Bert.  “Man, don’t you know it?”

“Well, it’s all your fault –­this whole confounded row!”

“Oh, you’re going to play welsher, are you?” sneered Bert.  “Humph!  By morning you’ll be a full-fledged mucker!”

“Don’t you worry about that,” argued Bayliss, though rather stiffly.  “I know my family –­and my caste.”

“I should hope so,” rejoined Dodge, with just a shade more cordiality.

Rather than alight at Gridley, and face the whole High School crowd –­for scores who had not been able to meet the expense of the trip to Tottenville would be sure to be at the station to meet the victorious team –­Bert and Bayliss rode on to the next station, then got off and walked two miles back to town.

By Monday morning the punishment of the pair was made complete.

Bert and Bayliss walked to school together.  As they drew near the grounds both young men felt their hearts beating faster.

“I wonder if there’s anything in for us?” whispered Dodge.

“Sure to be,” responded Bayliss.

“Well, the fellows had better not try anything too frisky.  If they do, they’ll give us a chance to make trouble for ’em!”

It seemed as though the full count of the student body, boys and girls, had assembled in the yard this morning.

All was gay noise until the pair of cronies appeared at the gate.

Then, swiftly, all the noise died out.

One could hardly hear even a breath being drawn.

The silence was complete as Bert and Bayliss, now very white, stepped into the yard.

Though not a voice sounded, every eye was turned on the white-faced pair.

Bert Dodge’s lips moved.  He tried to summon us control enough of his tongue to utter some indifferent remark to his companion.

But the sound simply wouldn’t come.

After a walk that was only a few yards in distance, yet seemed only less than a mile in length, the humiliated pair rushed up the steps, opened the great door and let themselves in.

At recess neither Bayliss nor Dodge had the courage to appear outside.  As they left school that afternoon they were treated to the same dose of “silence.”

Tuesday morning neither Dodge nor Bayliss showed up at all at school.

On Thursday morning High School readers of “The Blade” were greatly interested in the following personal paragraph: 

"Bayliss and Dodge, both of the senior class, High School, have severed their connection with that institution.  It is understood that the young men are going elsewhere in search of better educational facilities."

That was all, but it told the boys and girls at Gridley High School all that they needed to know.

“That is the very last gasp of the ‘sorehead’ movement,” grinned Tom Reade, in talking it over with Dan Dalzell.

“Well, they did the whole trick for themselves,” rejoined Dan.  “No one else touched them, or pushed them.  They took all the rope they wanted –­and hanged themselves.  Now, that pair will probably feel cheap every time they have to come back to Gridley and walk the streets.”

“All they had to do was to be decent fellows,” mused Tom.  “But the strain of decency proved to be too severe for them.”

In the High School yard that Thursday morning there was one unending strain of rejoicing.

Some of the other late “soreheads,” who had escaped the full meed of humiliation –­Davis, Cassleigh, Fremont, Porter and others –­actually sighed with relief when they found what they had escaped in the way of ridicule and contempt.

“The whole thing teaches us one principle,” muttered Fremont to Porter.

“What is that?”

“Never tackle the popular idol in any mob.  If you can’t get along with him, avoid him –­but don’t try to buck him!”

“Humph!” retorted Porter.  “If you mean Prescott and his gang –­Dick & Co., as the fellows call them –­I can follow one part of your advice by avoiding them.  I never did and never could like that mucker Prescott!”

The fact of interest to Dick would have been that he appeared to enjoy the respect of at least ninety-five per cent. of the student body of the High School.

Surely that percentage of popularity is enough for anyone.  The fellow can get along without the approbation of a few “soreheads”!