As clearly as he could, Ephraim explained the plan of Merry's new school. Carker listened with a show of interest until the Vermonter had finished.
"Well, I'm glad he's doing some good," said Greg. "Still, this is of minor importance compared with the great work in which I'm engaged."
"You go to grass!" almost snarled Ephraim. "Great fiddlesticks! Why, Frank is making real men of growing boys. He's making good, strong, healthy men that kin go out and successfully fight their way through life."
"Life should not be a battle," asserted the socialist. "Every man's hand should be outstretched to help a needy fellow man. This old-fashioned theory that human life is bound to be a battle is all wrong. We are one great body of brothers, bound together by a universal tie."
"Choke off roight where ye are," commanded Barney. "Oi'm yer fri'nd, Greg Carker, but Oi'll hit ye av ye sling any of that socialist talk at us! Ye've r'iled me now. Oi must have a shmoke to soothe me narves."
"Me, too," grinned Ephraim, as they both rose. "You'll 'scuse us for a little while, won't ye, girls? We'll jest step into the smokin' compartment."
"You may have the excuse if you weel leave Señor Carkaire to entertain us," murmured Juanita.
"I'll remain here," nodded Greg. "I don't smoke."
"Gol ding him!" growled Ephraim, as he followed Barney into the smoking compartment. "He's a bigger crank than ever! He's gittin' wuss and wuss!"
"What he nades is a girrul to marry him and straighten him out," declared the Irish youth.