"Of course they will. They'll have to. Father will have his lawyer 'tend to that for you, Billy. The police sha'n't cheat you out of your rights."
"Then," cried Billy, delight showing in his face. "I tell you what's going to happen if I get all that money."
"What?" asked Chet, curiously.
"Alice is going back to Central High to finish out her last year. You know, she would have graduated two years ago this June if it hadn't been for her having to stay home to 'tend to the kids. She shall come back. I know she wants to be a teacher, and without her High School certificate she cannot go to Normal."
"Well, you're a good kind of a kid, after all, Billy," said Chet Belding. "Even if you are full of tickle," and he grinned at the small boy.
"Thanks," sniffed Billy Long. "Did you think that nobody but you appreciates a good sister? Lemme tell you, Mother Wit isn't the only girl around these corners that's as good as any boy alive!"
Chet laughed aloud at this. "That's sure a backhand compliment," he said. "Most of the girls of Central High think they're a whole lot better than the boys."
"And gee! Ain't they?" rejoined Billy, with feeling.
They were back at the landing in time to escort the winning girls' crews up to the athletic field and listen to the speeches. Colonel Swayne made the best one of the day, and certainly the one that was most appreciated by the girls of Central High when he announced that the contracts for the building of the new gymnasium were closed and that the building was bound to surpass anything of the kind in the State.
"And I declare you deserve it!" said Colonel Swayne, in conclusion. "You certainly are the finest class of girls I ever did see. You are not like what girls were when I was a boy—I must say that. But, I guess different times breeds different folks. It must be all right for girls now to be athletic and be able to row like boys, and play ball, and all that.