CHAPTER VII
SOMETHING ABOUT A SLEIGHRIDE PARTY
“What kind of a party is it, Martha?”
“I don’t know, except that it’s somewhere out of town and some of the girls and fellows are going to the place in sleighs. I wasn’t asked to go, and I got the information in a roundabout way.”
“Then Ruth hasn’t said anything to you about it?”
“Not a word. But I’m sure she received this Lester Bangs’ invitation.”
“And you think she may accept it?”
“I hope not, Jack. Because I don’t like Bangs. He wears such showy clothing and jewelry.”
“That’s the reason we call him Brassy—he is brassy in looks and brassy in manner. He’s just as much of a hot-air bag as Tommy Flanders,” went on the young captain, referring to an arrogant youth who the summer before had pitched for Longley Academy and been knocked out of the box.
“Isn’t it queer, he put me in mind of Flanders?” whispered Martha. “I hope you don’t have any trouble with him, Jack.” And then, as some of the others came closer, the private conversation had to come to an end.