"You're flush, Harold," said his friend. "Has anybody left you a fortune?"
"No," answered Harold, uneasily. "I've been saving up money lately."
"You have? Why, I've heard of your being at theaters, playing billiards, and so on."
"Look here, Robert Greve, I don't see why you need trouble yourself so much about where I get my money."
"Don't be cranky, Harold," said Robert, good-humoredly, "I won't say another word. Only I am glad to find my friends in a healthy financial condition. I only wish I could say the same of myself."
There happened to be a matinee at the Grand Opera House, and Harold proposed going. First, however, they took a nice lunch at Brockway & Milan's, a mammoth restaurant on Clark Street, Harold paying the bill.
As they came out of the theater, Luke Walton chanced to pass.
"Good-afternoon, Harold," he said.
Harold tossed his head, but did not reply.
"Who is that boy—one of your acquaintances?" asked Robert Greve.