And Sam acknowledged that it looked so. The letters of reference went off that evening, one from the High School principal and one from the minister of the church Sam attended. Both were, he considered, undeservedly flattering. They bore immediate result. Just thirty-four hours later another telegram arrived, this time not quite so brief.
“Satisfactory. Join camp July fifth. Rail to East Mendon, stage to Indian Lake. Bring grey flannel trousers, blue sleeveless shirt, sweater, sneakers, mackintosh. Langham.”
They referred to that telegram at intervals all day. Sam was a bit troubled because it said nothing about socks or a hat, but Nell said she supposed Mr. Langham gave him credit for enough sense to bring such things without being told.
“He doesn’t say whether the sweater has to be any special colour, either,” mused Sam. “Mine’s grey.”
“That thing!” exclaimed Nell scathingly. “Why, mother’s darned that and darned it, Sam. It isn’t fit to be seen in. You must have a new one.”
“Gee, if I buy a new sweater besides all those other things I won’t have any money left! I asked Miller, at the station, what the fare to Indian Lake is and he said it’s four dollars and sixty cents.”
“I don’t care, Sam, you can’t take that old sweater. You can get a new one for three dollars, I guess.”
“Can’t afford it,” said Sam decisively.