“Gordon, I wish you weren’t so full of thanks; you tire me to death!” said Gray, trying to mimic Wayne’s manner. Wayne grinned.
“Now we’re even. Come over to the library with me.”
“No,” said Gray, as they went downstairs, “we’re not even. And we sha’n’t be for a long time. And that reminds me.” He pulled a coin out of his pocket and handed it to Wayne. “I sha’n’t be here a week from Saturday, you know; we go to Marshall to play St. Eustace.”
“That’s the last of them, isn’t it?” asked Wayne as he dropped the dollar into his pocket.
“Yes, that’s the last. And thank you ever so much, Gordon. Did I tell you last week that I’d been sending a little money home to my mother ever since I got those first golf balls to fix? Yes, and I know she’s tickled about it. You wouldn’t think that a fellow could make money in school, would you?”
“Some fellows could, and some couldn’t,” answered Wayne. “Do you get any balls to mend nowadays?”
“Yes, quite often; and a good many clubs. I’ve got so I can put a new shaft on to a head in fine style.”
“But you must have turned your room into a regular carpenter shop,” laughed the other.
“No; I use a corner of the carriage room in the stable. Mr. Vance doesn’t charge me anything for it; he’s awfully kind. You might come over and see my ‘repair shop’ some day.”