“Rheumatism?” the boy inquired, slyly. “That what you want to talk to me about?”
“No.” But Adams did not go on; he seemed to be in difficulties for words, and Walter decided to help him.
“Hop ahead and spring it,” he said. “Get it off your mind: I'll tell the world I should worry! You aren't goin' to bother ME any, so why bother yourself? Alice hopped home and told you she saw me playin' around with some pretty gay-lookin' berries and you——”
“Alice?” his father said, obviously surprised. “It's nothing about Alice.”
“Didn't she tell you——”
“I haven't talked with her all day.”
“Oh, I see,” Walter said. “She told mother and mother told you.”
“No, neither of 'em have told me anything. What was there to tell?”
Walter laughed. “Oh, it's nothin',” he said. “I was just startin' out to buy a girl friend o' mine a rhinestone buckle I lost to her on a bet, this afternoon, and Alice came along with that big Russell fish; and I thought she looked sore. She expects me to like the kind she likes, and I don't like 'em. I thought she'd prob'ly got you all stirred up about it.”
“No, no,” his father said, peevishly. “I don't know anything about it, and I don't care to know anything about it. I want to talk to you about something important.”