"Disappointed!" retorted John scornfully. "I don't want any of old Rathburn's sixpenny books. I can buy as many as I please. If he'd given 'em to me, I should have asked him to keep 'em for those who needed 'em more."

Frank was justly indignant at the unfriendly course which John chose to pursue, but feeling that it proceeded from disappointed rivalry, he wisely said nothing to increase his exasperation. He put the two books carefully away in his desk, and settled himself quietly to his day's lessons.

It was not until evening that John and his father met. Both had been chafed--the first by his disappointment, the second by the failure of his effort to prevent the town's voting bounties to volunteers. In particular he was incensed with Mr. Frost, for his imputation of interested motives, although it was only in return for a similar imputation brought against himself.

"Well, father, I didn't get the prize," commenced John, in a discontented voice.

"So much the worse for you," said his father coldly. "You might have gained it if you had made an effort."

"No, I couldn't. Rathburn was sure to give it to his favorite."

"And who is his favorite?" questioned Squire Haynes, not yet siding with his son.

"Frank Frost!" repeated the squire, rapidly wheeling round to his son's view of the matter. His dislike of the father was so great that it readily included the son. "What makes you think he is the teacher's favorite?"