“How do you know that we are from the city?” inquired Loren, as he made a selection from the box that was placed on the show-case.
“Because I was a city boy myself, until father took it into his head that he wanted to spend a summer at Mount Airy,” replied the clerk. “That was a bad move for me, for we have been here ever since. Besides, in a little place like this, every body knows more about your business than you do yourself. I know who you are, and where you came from, and all about it.”
“Then it was a bad change for you, was it?” said Ralph. “You don’t like to live here? Neither do we.”
“I don’t blame you,” said the clerk. “Wait until you get acquainted with some of these old-timers and find out what an exclusive lot they are, and you will dislike it worse than you do now. There are a few of them, especially the Toxophilites, as they call themselves, who try to monopolize all the fun there is going.”
“Why don’t you join them?” asked Tom.
“Because they won’t let me—that’s why.”
“Then you must be George Prime.”
“That’s my name, and you are Tom Bigden, and you two are Loren and Ralph Farnsworth.”
“You’ve hit it,” answered Tom. “They wouldn’t take us in either. They told us so not more than an hour ago. Why didn’t you go to the party?”
“Because they didn’t invite me,” said Prime, angrily. “I don’t get invitations to any thing any more. I showed rather too much spirit to suit them, and so they dropped me.”