“He’d better apply to you, then, Tom,” grinned Harry.
“Why, I couldn’t sell him any,” Tom replied.
“What did you do with those you had last night?”
“You remember the unfordable pond that came in one of my courses yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“To-day I threw all of Peter’s .45’s into the middle of the pond. They must have sunk a foot into the mud by this time.”
“Seriously, Tom, don’t you believe that you’d better take one of the revolvers that I bought and wear it on a belt?”
“Not I,” retorted Reade. “Harry, I wish you could get that sort of foolishness out of your head. A revolver is of no possible use to a man who hasn’t any killing to do. I’m trying to learn to be a civil engineer, not a man-killer.”
“Then I believe that Bad Pete will ‘get’ you one of these days,” sighed Hazelton.
“Wait until he does,” smiled Tom. “Then you can have the fun of coming around and saying ‘I told you so.’”