“He’s daffy on that subject,” laughed Sam. “Wakes me up at night to talk about it. I tell him Finkler won’t part with his old land, but that makes no difference with Jack. He keeps right on talking!”
“How do you know he won’t sell or rent it?” asked Jack with a smile.
“Well, he’s been asked to twenty times, I guess.” This from Ted. “Anyhow, five or six times.”
“Why not ask him again?” persisted Jack.
“No use,” said Sam with finality, shaking his head.
“How do you know it is no use? Remember what you told me the other day, Sam? You said that all folks weren’t mind readers, and, sometimes, when you wanted a thing, you had to speak out. Maybe Finkler’s had a change of heart since he was asked the last time. Maybe if he knew we wanted his field, or the use of it, he’d be glad to let us have it.”
“Maybe a cow’s an insect,” scoffed Turnbull. “Old Finkler would never have a change of heart. His heart’s too tough to change.”
Jack made no reply, but his smile told them that he was not yet convinced. As he was leaving the gymnasium with Sam, Dolph stopped him.
“Borden, you and Sam run over this evening, will you? I’m not plumb sure there isn’t something in that idea of yours. Anyway, it won’t hurt to chew it over a bit. Maybe we can hit on a plan.”
They did hit on a plan at length, but not until they had talked for the better part of an hour. Sam was very much of a pessimist on the subject, and threw cold water on the project until the others got tired and threatened to put him out of the room.