“I wonder,” mused Jim as they passed the little white house where Plato Society held its meetings, “if being on the football team would help a fellow to make a society.”
“Well,” answered Jeffrey, “I suppose a fellow who is well known and has done something for the school like playing football or baseball or rowing in the boat naturally stands a better show than some chap who is unknown.”
He shot a glance at Jim’s thoughtful face and smiled to himself. A hundred yards further on Jim spoke again.
“I wonder,” he said, “if Gil or Poke has a book of rules.”
When Poke came back he sought Jim and found him in the cellar swinging the ax.
“Hello,” he said, “what are you doing?”
“Kindlings,” replied Jim as he dodged a piece of wood. Then he buried the ax in the block and faced Poke.
[“Look here,” he demanded, “what did you tell Duncan Sargent about me?”]
Poke laughed. “Why?” he asked.