This time Curly did not speak so quietly, and so Dick was able to hear brief snatches of the conversation, such as, "Awfully sorry—wouldn't do you—now we're square, aren't we?"
"Yes," replied Jim, slipping something into his pocket, "and it comes in very handy just now."
"All right," said Curly, walking away; and raising his voice, he added, "You'll be sure to come, won't you? We'll have a rattling good time. So long."
Dick was on the horns of a dilemma. He felt eager to tell his chum what he had seen, yet he had a vague idea that he ought to keep an eye on the other two.
"I'll follow them up," he said, "and then come back to meet Jim. Unless I've been dreaming with my eyes open, there's something very rotten in the state of Denmark."
Meanwhile, Jim remained at the door till the errand-boy returned, then he went in and sat down at the desk. He had finished his lessons, and was in the midst of a very exciting story, but somehow he did not find much pleasure in it.
As a matter of fact he was getting very tired of Curly Peters and Company. He knew quite well they were doing him no food. On more than one occasion they had forced him to lie to his employer and to do other things of which he was heartily ashamed.
"I've a good mind to cut the whole concern," said he, "make a clean breast of it to the gov'nor, and ask him to give me a fresh start. I really believe he would do it."
Then he turned to his book again, but it was useless trying to follow the fortunes of the hero; he was thinking all the time what a fool he had been in preferring Curly Peters to Dick Boden.
"The Angel's a little brick," he said to himself. "He's stuck to me like a leech, though I've snubbed him awfully. Never mind, Dicky; I'll make up for it, if you'll let me."