“Well, you gave them to him to play with, didn’t you? Now don’t try to evade responsibility, Jelly.”
“Well, we’ll never get any more,” said Malcolm. “The next time we want to picnic—”
“The next time we want to picnic,” said Rob severely, “I hope some one will clap us into an insane asylum. Don’t talk about picnics to me, Mal, or I may do you mortal injury. I’ve had enough picnicking to last me fifty years!”
“So have I,” grunted Jelly. “The next time you fellows ask me to go with you—”
“The next time we ask you!” cried Rob. But words failed him.
“I shall simply refuse,” concluded Jelly as he limped away.
[CHAPTER XIII]
EVAN RETIRES
By the end of the first week of the term Evan had settled down into his appointed groove and school routine was in full swing. At lessons Evan was neither a dullard nor a wonder; just an average student. He soon found that if he gave a fair amount of time to study he got on very well in class, and that if he didn’t he met with trouble. Having a good fund of common sense he decided to keep out of trouble. At first it wasn’t easy to buckle down in the evenings to study, for Rob was a disturbing factor. Rob had a fashion of spending the study-hour in working on his marvelous inventions and then burning the “midnight juice,” as he called the electric-light, until all hours. But after a while Evan got used to Rob’s interruptions and accustomed to going asleep with the light shining in his face. Rob squirmed through recitations somehow, just how Evan couldn’t comprehend, and didn’t let the thought of impending examinations worry him. At present Rob was very busy with a combined comb and brush for the use of travelers, the comb working on a pivot at the end of the brush-handle and snapping back along the top of the brush when not in use. Rob was convinced that the invention was destined to great success and spent many hours of his time making drawings of it. He had discarded the foot-scraper, having discovered that the cost of manufacturing it would prohibit its use to all save millionaires.