“Perhaps you like football or baseball better,” went on Jack, a little puzzled. “We have a good eleven.”
“I’m not allowed to play football.”
“Maybe you’d like to go for a walk,” persisted Jack, who had the kindest heart in the world, and who felt sorry for the lonely new boy. “I’ll show you around. I understand you just came.”
“Yes; I arrived yesterday morning.”
“Would you like to take a walk? I don’t know but what I’d just as soon do that as row.”
“No, I—I don’t care for walking.”
The lad turned aside and started away from the lake, without even so much as thanking Jack for his effort to make friends with him.
“Humph!” mused Jack as he got into his boat. “You certainly are a queer customer. Just like a snail, you go in your house and walk off with it. There’s something wrong about you, and I’m going to find out what it is. Don’t like rowing, don’t like walking, afraid of the water—you certainly are queer.”