“Also, you wanted to know when they were and, if so, to what extent,” rattled Mart glibly. “And, while we are inquiring into the matter, let us also consider the other side of it. For instance, fellows: If it is as we say it is, then why not let them do it? Or, failing that, and all other things being equal——”
“Oh, dry up!” laughed Ira. “Don’t mind him, Hicks. He’s crazy. Tell you what, I’ll drop down to your room later and we’ll—we’ll talk it over.” Ira winked meaningly. Hicks stared and shook his head.
“What I’m getting at,” he said carefully, “is this. When I got in from supper I found my encyclopedia piled up on the floor of my room. I didn’t ask Converse to send it, and I thought that possibly you—ah—knew something about it.”
Ira sank into a chair and tried to look innocent. There was evidently no use in attempting to head “Old Earnest” off.
“Oh, I see,” he said affably. “You—you’ve got it back, eh?”
“Yes. At least—Yes, I’ve got it back. But what I wanted to know was——”
“Ah, now we’re coming to it!” murmured Mart. “Go on! You interest me strangely, Hicks!”
“Well, did you—I mean—” Hicks’s embarrassment was becoming painful and Ira took pity on him. He nodded.
“Yes, I did, Hicks,” he said apologetically. “I hope you don’t mind. You see, you needed the books and—and I happened to have the money, and Converse sold them dirt cheap——”