“Tonawanda? What’s the matter with the name?” demanded Humphrey. “It isn’t half as bad as some of the names in your part of the country. What’s that one you sprung the other night? Chemquat——”
“Chemquasabamticook? Oh, that’s just a river. Our towns have pretty names, like Skowhegan and Norridgewock and Pattagumpus,” replied Ira gravely. “Well, see you later.”
He found Mart Johnston in possession when he reached the room. Mart explained that Brad had tried to get him to go to a meeting of the Debating Society and that he had had to run off after dinner to escape that horrible fate. “They all talk,” he said, “and no one says anything. And they get most frightfully excited and tear their hair and froth at the mouth and beat on the table, and all they’re fussed up about is whether Daniel Webster was a greater man than John L. Sullivan or whether honesty is the best policy! They’re a queer bunch, those debaters, I should think! But if I’m in the way here I can go somewhere else. I can’t go home until after eight, because Brad will get me if I do, but I can walk the streets or go to sleep in a doorway.”
“You’re not in my way,” laughed Ira, “and Humphrey is calling on Mr. Sterner of Tonawanda.”
“Who’s he?”
“Sterner of the second,” explained Ira. “He comes from Tonawanda, New York, and that makes a bond of sympathy between him and Nead. Nead hails from Buffalo. From what he said I gathered that the two places were near each other.”
“No one can blame you. Well, how’s the battle going? Are you a scientific centre rush yet? I heard Fred say some nice things about you the other day. I guess he and Driscoll are real proud of you.”
“I’m afraid they won’t be when they see me play. Basker says they’ll put me in tomorrow. Bet you anything I’ll pass the ball over Wirt’s head or do something else perfectly awful!”
“Pull yourself together, old man. You can’t do any worse than some of the others Driscoll has had at centre. Someone’s at the door, I think. Oh, do you suppose it’s Brad? I won’t go without a struggle!”
It wasn’t Brad, however, but Hicks, Hicks looking oddly bewildered and embarrassed as he entered in response to Ira’s call. His embarrassment wasn’t reduced any when he found Mart there, and he started to retire, but thought better of it and slammed the door mightily behind him as one burning his bridges. Ira, surmising his errand, tried to head him off.