“‘Chad,’ I guess. I like him better than the others.”
“What is it you like about him, son?”
“Oh, I don’t know. He’s a good baseball player, and a dandy half-back; you know he played half on the team last fall, sir.”
“Did he? I’d forgotten. Well, any other good points you can think of, son?”
Dan hesitated. He didn’t like his father’s tone. It was a tone which Mr. Vinton was likely to use when, to use Dan’s expression, he was “looking for trouble.”
“He—he’s just a good fellow, sir, and we get on pretty well together.”
“I see. Ever hear of him doing anything worth while?”
“He won the game for us last Thanksgiving Day,” answered Dan doubtfully, pretty certain that the feat mentioned wouldn’t make much of a hit with the questioner.
“Ever hear of him doing anything helpful, anything kind, anything useful to himself or anyone else?” pursued Mr. Vinton remorselessly. Dan was silent for a moment.
“I guess he would if he got the chance,” he replied finally.