“Well, fellows,” he said, “I am not going to college after all.”
There was a silence. Three pairs of eyes regarded the speaker blankly.
“The heat,” said a tall boy in a hushed tone, laying a hand on David’s unruly hair.
“It’s that little girl he danced with four times yesterday at the tea,” a second remarked mournfully.
“It’s because he leads the Honor Roll. He thinks he knows it all now,” jeered the third; then, “Kidding aside, Davie,” he said, “what’s up?”
David hesitated, then took the plunge.
“Darn it!” he said. “Of course I owe it to you three fellows to give you all the dope, but I certainly hate to drag my affairs in. Still, after all our planning I can’t leave you without an explanation. You know I live in Denver with my mother and two sisters. Boys, I’ve got the finest mother, and the sweetest kid sisters. Mother works. She never gets a vacation; couldn’t even come to my Commencement. Gosh! It made me sick. And my older sister (she’s sixteen) has heard me tell all about you fellows, and she was so crazy to see you, and the school, and everything. But they couldn’t make it. Too much car fare.”
“Why, you big stiff!” cried the tall boy angrily. “Why didn’t you say something? Mother and father came right through Denver. All your folks could have come on with them in the car.”
“Yes,” said David, “I know, and I certainly appreciate it, but they couldn’t very well—”
“But what about college, Dave?” asked the tall boy impatiently.