Hence the puppy in the desk.
Ralph Hartsook grew red in the face when he saw the puppy.

But the cool, repressed, bulldog mood in which he had kept himself saved him.

He lifted the dog into his arms and stroked him until the laughter subsided.

Then, in a solemn and set way, he began: "I am sorry," and he looked round the room with a steady, hard eye--everybody felt that there was a conflict coming--"I am sorry that any scholar in this school could be so mean"-- the word was uttered with a sharp emphasis, and all the big boys felt sure that there would be a fight with Bill Means, and perhaps with Bud--"could be so _mean_--as to--shut up his _brother_ in such a place as that!" There was a long, derisive laugh.

The wit was indifferent, but by one stroke Ralph had carried the whole school to his side.