“Fifty? Pooh!” said Wayne. “We’ll get lots more than that. Just you wait and see.”
“You’re very good to help me; it will be a bother, I know; and you are so busy with your lessons, too.”
“Oh, I’ll find time between recitations, you know,” replied Wayne. “Come up about this time to-morrow. So long.”
“Good-by,” answered Gray, “and—and thanks awfully, Gordon.” Wayne scowled.
“Say, Gray, I wish you weren’t so full of ‘thank you’s.’ You just tire me to death with them.” Gray smiled from the doorway.
“All right; I’ll try to remember. Good-by.” He closed the door behind him, and Wayne turned back to his book. “I’ll bet Dave’s got a lot of old golf balls,” he muttered as he found his place. “I’ll speak to him to-night if I see him.”
But Dave didn’t turn up that evening, and the next afternoon, as soon as the last recitation was over, Wayne took a pad of paper and a pencil and started out to drum up trade. His first visit was to Hampton House, where he discovered both Dave and Paddy writing fast and furiously at the table, an atmosphere of excitement about them. Paddy stopped long enough to explain what was up.
“We’re going to have a grand spectacular skating carnival on the river next Wednesday. All the fellows are going in for it. Wallace and Greene and I are the committee, and——”
“What committee?” asked Wayne.
“Oh, just a committee, you know, to get up the programme and arrange for the prizes and all that. We’re going to have a lot of races, handicap, novice, class, and a hurdle race. Say, will you enter the novice?”