“Good thing I didn’t have to try it,” laughed Toby. “That was only a little over a year ago, Arn! Why, it seems years!”
“Much has happened since then, T. Tucker,” replied Arnold, tossing the notebook on the table. “Events have transpired. In the short space of—let me see; this is September—in the short space of fifteen months you were rescued from a living-death in the Johnstown High School and became a person of prominence at Yardley Hall!”
“Prominent as a cleaner and presser of clothes,” laughed Toby.
“Nay, nay, prominent as one swell hockey player, Toby, and also, if I mistake not, as a rescuer of drowning youths. Don’t forget you’re a hero, old thing. By the way, I wonder if young Lingard’s back. For your sake, I hope he isn’t. His gratitude to you for saving him from a watery death was a bit embarrassing to you, I thought!”
Toby smiled ruefully. “You didn’t think, you knew,” he said grimly. Arnold laughed.
“To see you slinking around a corner to evade the kid was killing, Toby! And he is such a little rotter, too! While you were rescuing, why didn’t you pull out something a little more select?”
“Oh, Tommy isn’t a bad sort really,” responded Toby earnestly. “He—he just didn’t get the right sort of bringing-up, I suppose.”
“Maybe. Personally, I always feel like taking him over my knee and wearing out a shingle on him! Well, this won’t get our things unpacked. Let’s knock off after a bit and see who’s back. Funny none of the gang has been in. Wonder if Fan’s back. And Ted Halliday.”
“I saw Fanning at supper,” said Toby.
“We’ll run over to Dudley after awhile and look him up. You like him, don’t you, Toby?”