“No, if they camp where they say they will you can get them in half an hour, I dare say. Besides, it doesn’t get really dark until nearly seven. I’d like to have you stay longer, but if you insist on going, why, I’ll take you over for that two-fifty-two. I made a mistake in giving that knee of yours such a good rubbing last night, Craig.”
“It certainly cured it, sir. It doesn’t hurt a mite to-day, unless I punch it.” And Sam pressed the knee experimentally, to Mr. York’s amusement.
“You’re a regular boy, Craig,” he laughed. “I remember when I was a kid and had a toothache I’d put my finger in my mouth and bite down on it as hard as I could to see how badly it would hurt! Well, we’ve got four hours before lunch, and if you want to try out that leg of yours we’ll stroll around and see the place.”
The morning passed quickly. The subject of college was not mentioned again until, at half-past two, they were speeding along the road to the station in the grey roadster. Then Mr. York said:
“Craig, could you pass a college examination next fall if you had to?”
“I’m not sure,” replied Sam. “I don’t just know what the requirements are, Mr. York. I’ve never thought much about it, you see, because it’s never seemed I had any chance to get to college. I guess I’d have trouble with my Latin, though.”
“Well, look here, I wish you’d try this winter and see if you can’t get yourself ready. If nothing comes of it, it won’t do you a bit of harm. But—well, I hope something will come of it, old man. I’d like very much to be sure that you were going through college. Perhaps you think I’m a strange sort of a chap to meddle so much in your affairs, but you’ve made quite a hit with me, Sam, especially since last night; and when I like anyone I want to see him get all that’s coming to him. I don’t care a continental what college you go to or whether you play ball or don’t. That’s out of it. But I would like to see you get to college.”
“I’d like it myself, Mr. York. Only I wouldn’t want to go unless I could do it fairly.”
“You’re right, old man. The end doesn’t always justify the means. Well, I’m going to put my thinking cap on and see if between us we can’t find a way. I’ll write to the secretary at Warner and see if there’s a scholarship you could try for. I’ll write to the other colleges around here, too. Look here, if you could get a real job next summer that would pay you, say, eighteen or twenty dollars a week, would you take it?”
“I’d jump at it!” said Sam. “But I don’t believe I know enough to make that much, Mr. York. There isn’t much I can do, I guess.”