“Only—nothing. Say, here’s a chance to buy me that seltzer lemonade. I think you ought to stand treat for Phil and me, Tom, seeing that if it hadn’t been for us the game would have been lost and you wouldn’t have met Miss Madge.”
“I don’t know that it has benefited me much,” replied Tom.
“What do you mean, you old cart horse?” asked Phil, thumping his friend on the back. “Seeing the game won or meeting the pretty girl? I believe you said she was pretty.”
“I didn’t say so, but she is—very. But I meant about meeting her. Langridge seems to have a mortgage in that direction, I fancy.”
“He makes me sick!” exclaimed Phil. “He and the airs he gives himself. But come on in here,” and he turned toward a drug store. “I’m like a lime kiln, I’m so warm. It’s your treat, Tom.”
“All right, I’m willing.”
“Did Miss Madge ask you to call?” inquired Phil as the three were wending their way toward college again.
“Yes.”
“You don’t say so! Well, it seems to me that for a new acquaintance you rushed matters fairly well.”
“I forgot to add,” said Tom slowly, “that I knew her before—back in Northville where I live. She moved away from there some years ago and I didn’t recognize her at first. But she knew me at once.”