“Whatever happens,” counselled Alf, “make him understand that he’s got to take things as they come and that the sooner he forgets that his dad has any money the better it’ll be for him.”
“I’m going to,” answered Dan. “Or, at least, I’m going to try. He isn’t a bad sort at all, and I don’t want him to make a mess of things here, especially after persuading his father to let him come.”
“Well, don’t you worry,” said Alf. “We’ll help you out all we can. I guess he will get on all right. He must have some sense or he wouldn’t be John T’s son!”
“Must be supper time,” said Tom. “Something tells me so, and it isn’t my watch either.”
“That’s right, it’s five minutes after six. Come on, fellows. I’ll find a place for you at our table, Herb. Are you hungry?”
“Sort of. Well, glad to have met you, Vinton. Come and see me if you get up to New Haven. Alf will tell you where I live.”
“Oh, you’re not through with Dan yet,” laughed Alf. “He sits at our table.”
“But not to-night,” replied Dan, as they went out. “Toby’s invited me to his table. Mr. Pennimore and Gerald will be there, you know.”
“Well, what do you think of that?” cried Alf.