"That's what I am crazy over," said Jardin. "If I consent to go to school and stay all through the winter, I am to have a little plane this fall. I have been taking lessons down at Garden City, and my plane is to be a real long distance one. Dad will give me anything if I will go to school. Gee, I hate it!"
Frank swallowed hard. Two automobiles and an airplane! He commenced to feel sorry for Bill. "Bill and I are going east to school this fall," he said. "Where are you going?"
"I don't know yet," said Jardin. "I have got to talk it over with dad."
"Let's go find Bill," said Frank. "That is, if you haven't anything better to do."
They detached themselves from the crowd and walked down to the sporting house, where they found Bill just tucking a bulky bundle under his arm. He had bought his sweater and stopped to count his change before he turned to greet the boys.
"Gee, what an old woman's trick," said Frank, who wanted to let Jardin know that he was not afraid to spend.
"You mean to count the change?" Bill inquired.
"Yes," said Frank.
"You are right," Jardin cut in. "I never have time. My time is more valuable than a few cents the fellow may swipe from me."
"Suppose it is the other way around," said Bill. "Suppose the fellow has made the mistake. When the checks are made up, his shows the loss and he has to make it up. Not much fun for him. Perhaps he has a family and he can't afford it. I never used to bother either, but once I was taking dinner in New York with a friend of mother's who has oodles of money, and when he came to pay the check he looked every item over and counted the change and it was thirty cents overcharged. I suppose I looked funny, because he said to me when the waiter went off to get it straightened out, 'Bill, it is no special credit to let these fellows do you. If you want to give money away, there are plenty of beggars on the streets, or you can buy millions of shoe laces and pencils. But never let anybody think they can put it over you.'