“Please don’t,” interrupted Dan.
“I’m going to tell,” persisted Walter, ignoring his roommate’s words. “I’ll tell you just how it was. Dan lives on a farm that is next to my grandfather’s at Rodman. I’ve known him ever since we both were kids. Four years ago his father died, and Dan and his brother Tom have been running the farm ever since. Of course, a fellow that runs a farm nowadays doesn’t get the chance to make as much money as some men do, but Dan and Tom have managed to live and get a little ahead too. They knew there was some money to be made——”
“On a farm?” broke in Gus with a sneer.
“Yes, sir; on a farm!” retorted Walter hotly.
“I’d like to know what they raised,” sneered Gus.
“I’ll tell you—they raised hogs!” said Walter. “You ought to know that hogs pay if there’s anyone in the school that knows it.”
A shout arose from the boys, but Gus only glowered at Walter. In a moment the latter continued: “Dan decided this summer that he would take the little money he had made and saved by raising hogs and doing other little jobs, like rowing for the men that wanted to go fishing on Six Town Pond, and go to school. He had about decided that he would go to the normal school, for he’d have a chance there to work and pay for part of his board, and there wasn’t any tuition to pay for anyway. My father heard of Dan’s plan and he told him that if he would room with me and do me good he would send him to the Tait School. Now, the way I look at it, it’s Dan who is doing the favor——”
“Of course he is!” broke in Hodge warmly. “It was mighty good of him to come, I think. I guess if he hadn’t shown that he had that ‘fade-away’ ball Gus wouldn’t have kicked. It’s too bad, Gussie,” he added with a laugh, as he turned to his companion. “You’re a near-pitcher anyway, and that’s something, you know.”
“Why didn’t you go out and hire some professional to take Ned’s place as catcher?” demanded the angry Gus.