The woman viewed the wreckage. “It’s a ten-cent dinner, all right,” she nodded.
Harry’s eyes were full of contempt as he turned to the fat boy, who, caught in a lie, colored deeply, his small, shifting eyes refusing to meet Harry’s. Those who had crowded around the two began looking and voicing their disapproval.
“Pretty small, isn’t he,” sneered a young man. “He was trying to work that other boy for a nickel.”
“Serve him right if he had to go without his dinner,” commented a boy of about Harry’s own age.
“Come on, Ted.” Taking the red-haired boy by the arm, Harry turned his back on the dishonest boy. The surrounding group dissolved, by magic, leaving the fat youth standing alone, a deep scowl darkening his disagreeable face.
“See here, Ted,” began Harry as they walked down the long room, “did you start that fuss?”
“Course I didn’t,” flung back Teddy in indignation. “I was goin’ along, minding my own business, when I bumped into that fathead. Why didn’t he look where he was goin’?”
“Why didn’t you look where you were going?” questioned Harry slyly.
“I guess that’s right, too,” admitted Teddy. “Still, he needn’ta made all that pow-wow. I was goin’ to make his old dinner up to him. I had ten cents left of my quarter and I was goin’ to take you to the movies when we got out to-night. Then he had to come along and spoil it all.”
“I couldn’t go to the movies to-night, anyhow, Ted,” said Harry, “but it’s good in you to think of me.”