“Yes,” drawled Arnold. “They’re going to teach reading and writing to the advanced students, I understand. And I believe there is even some talk of a course in elementary arithmetic, but that may be an exaggeration.”
“My word! Well, Broadwood’s an awful up-and-coming place! I have heard that they were going to introduce football—”
“Aw, cut it!” interrupted a disgusted voice from behind Toby. “That’s old stuff!”
“Is it?” asked Arnold, innocently regarding the scowling countenance showing around Toby’s shoulder. “We just heard of it. Much obliged.”
“Fresh snips,” growled another Broadwood youth. “I didn’t know they let their juniors come to town.”
“What’s yours, gentlemen?” inquired the attendant behind the counter.
“Three hot sodas, please,” began Toby. But Homer interrupted, with a wink.
“We’ll take three Broadwood punches, please.”
“I don’t know those,” said the clerk, smiling doubtfully. “Spring it.”
“There ain’t no such thing,” answered Homer.