“Blessed if I know. I thought you might.” He looked hesitatingly over at Gerald’s bowed head. “Perhaps—?”
Dan nodded.
“I say, Gerald,” said Alf, “I hate to interrupt that absorbing game of yours, but would you mind telling me how you and your friend Arthur Thompson are getting on these days?”
Gerald looked blank for a moment.
“Thompson?” he repeated. “Oh! Why, we always nod when we meet each other. We’ve never spoken since the night of the snowball fight. Why, Alf?”
“I was just wondering,” replied Alf vaguely. “I wondered whether you were friends or not. Does he seem inclined to be decent?”
“We-ell, he hasn’t tried to be smart with me,” answered Gerald. “But I don’t think he cares for me much. And I’m pretty sure I don’t like him.”
“I see. And do you know a fellow named Hiltz, Jake Hiltz, a Third Class fellow; lives in Whitson?”
Gerald shook his head.
“I don’t think so. I may know him by sight. Ought I to know him, Alf?”