“Sure,” grinned Joe. “Anything to oblige, Foster.” He had already dropped his feet, and now he drew his suspenders over his shoulders again and slipped his feet back into his shoes. “Don’t guess I’ll ever get on to the ways of the best circles, Foster. I’m what you call an Unspoiled Child of Nature. Well, what did the guy in the Office say? I’m betting I was right, kiddo.”
“And don’t call me ‘kiddo’! You know my name. Use it.”
“Gosh-all-hemlock!” murmured the other. “Say, you must have one of those fiery Southern temperaments I’ve read about. Now I know how the Civil War happened. I’ll bet you’re a direct descendant of General Lee!”
“I’m not a Southerner,” answered Myron. “Just where do you think Delaware is?”
“Well, I didn’t know you hailed from there,” replied Joe untroubledly, “but I’d say Delaware was sort of Southern. Ain’t it?”
“No more than Maine. Look here, Dobbin——”
“Dobbins, please; with an S.”
“Dobbins, then,” continued Myron impatiently. “That fellow over there says the school’s so full I can’t have a room to myself. They promised me I could two months ago, and we’ve paid for one. Well, I’m going to get out and go somewhere where—where they know how to treat you. But—but I can’t leave until tomorrow, so we’ll have to share this place tonight.”
“That’ll be all right,” replied Joe affably. “I don’t mind.”
Myron stared. “I didn’t suppose you did,” he said.