Part 28 (1/2)

”Good thing there are not a pair of them,” came from Dave.

”Such stories are the fruits of idleness,” was added by Buster, solemnly.

”Oh, don't you poke fun at that joke,” retorted Shadow. ”It's a good deal better than any you could get up.”

Dave learned that Luke Watson's folks were now living in New York City, and that Luke had invited Buster and Shadow to spend a week with him.

”It's too bad you can't stop off, at least for a day or two,” said Luke to Dave. ”It would suit me down to the ground to have you join us.”

”And I'd like first-rate to do it, Luke,” answered our hero. ”But I promised to be in Was.h.i.+ngton by to-morrow, and that means that I've got to take the midnight train from New York City.”

”Well, we'll get down to New York by three o'clock this afternoon.

That will give us nine hours in which to have a good time. You've got to come up to our house for dinner,” continued Luke; and so it was arranged.

”I was wondering what I would do with myself this evening,” said our hero. ”I don't mind going around the city in the daylight, but after it is dark it is rather hard for a stranger to put in his time, unless he wants to go to some kind of show.”

”We might all go to a moving-picture show after dinner,” suggested Buster. ”I'll blow you to front seats,” he added generously.

”You'll have to make it a seat farther back than that for me,” put in Shadow. ”A front seat at a moving-picture show is no good,” and at this there was a general snicker.

”We'll see about the show after we have had dinner,” said Luke.

The time on the train was spent in talk about Oak Hall and their numerous cla.s.smates, many of them now well scattered throughout the States.

”Polly Vane has gone into business, so I hear,” announced Luke. ”He's in real estate, and in spite of the fact that he's a regular dude they tell me he is doing very well.”

”Well, Polly ought to do well,” answered Dave, who had not forgotten that the student who acted so very girlishly had at graduation stood as high in his percentage as our hero himself had done.

”And they say Chip Macklin is doing pretty well, too,” put in Buster, referring to a small lad who had once been a toady to Gus Plum, the Hall bully.

”Well, Plum is doing well,” returned Dave. ”I'm glad he reformed.

Evidently there was much better stuff in him than there was in Jasniff and Merwell.”

”Oh, Jasniff and Merwell were thoroughly bad eggs,” announced Luke.

”I'll never forget, Dave, how Jasniff once tried to brain you with an Indian club.”

”Say, speaking about bad eggs, puts me in mind of another story,”

cried Shadow. ”A lady went into a store and asked the store-keeper's clerk how much the eggs were. The clerk--Now don't interrupt me, because this isn't a very long story,” pleaded the would-be story teller. ”The clerk was only a small boy, and he hadn't been in the business very long, so he told the lady, 'The really fresh eggs are fifty cents, and the almost fresh eggs are forty cents, and those that ain't so fresh are thirty-five cents, and the rotten eggs are thirty cents.'”

”Oh, Shadow! what a story!”

”Haven't you got any fresher than that?”

”You can't make anybody believe any such yarn as that.”

”That story is absolutely true,” returned the story teller, soberly.