“Then you won’t have to yell for Dick Halliard to help you out when you tumble into the mill-pond.”
“He didn’t help me out; what are you talking about?” “He said so, and you didn’t deny it.”
“It was me that helped him out,” was the unblushing response of young McGovern, growing angrier every minute; “and I’m going to get even with him.”
“Get even for what? For helping him out?”
“For lying about me; I don’t allow any chap to do that.”
“How are you going to do it, Jim?” asked Tom, glad of a chance to tantalize his companion.
“Why, how do you suppose? I’ll lay for him.”
“Ah, that reminds me!” said his companion; “I forgot it until this minute.”
“What’s that?”
“Why, when Bob started out this evening, he said he was going to do that very thing—lay for young Halliard.”