"Don't blame you. He is A No. 1 with his feet all right," said Skippy, and he added carelessly, "wonderful how he manages it, too, with his infirmity."
"His infirmity?" said Dolly, startled.
"Did I say infirmity?" said Skippy, pretending surprise. "For heaven's sake, don't tell any one. Gee, I shouldn't have said that."
"Yes, but what infirmity?" said Dolly, now in a high state of excitement.
Skippy compressed his lips to show that they were forever sealed, and moved away. But he noted with satisfaction that the next time Miss Dolly Travers passed whirling about the great man, instead of the rapturous upturned gaze, was one of alarmed curiosity.
The next day at the beach Dolly opened up at once the question of infirmities.
"Dolly," said Skippy firmly, "I'm not going to say any more, so it's no use trying to pump me. I'm ashamed to have said what I did. A feller can't help what he's got, or what he hasn't got, can he? And it's only a foolish prejudice after all."
"But Jack—"
"There was another fellow at school," said Skippy, without attention, "who had a glass eye, but he was a positive nuisance. He used to take it out and leave it around. No one could stand roomin' with him. It certainly gave you the creeps to be lookin' on the table for a collar button or a pen and find—"
But here Dolly gave a shriek and fled with her hands over her ears.