Law passed the cap along the row and Evan and Malcolm deposited their contributions. Law stared at Rob.
“Come on, now, Rob,” he said, “shell out.”
“Not me,” answered Rob with a smile. “I have better use for my money, Joe. Go on with your old hat.”
“My, but you’re a tight-wad,” said Joe, with a shrug of his big shoulders.
Presently the collectors handed their harvest to Prentiss. The audience waited to hear the result announced. Prentiss and Hopkins counted and figured and at last the former came to the front of the platform with a slip in his hand.
“Doesn’t look happy, does he?” chuckled Rob.
“The amount contributed,” announced Prentiss with thinly veiled sarcasm, “is eighty dollars and sixty cents. I want to thank the generous donor of that ten cent piece if he will stand up where I can see him.”
The audience laughed, but no one arose.
“Of course,” continued Prentiss, “there’s no necessity for me to tell you that you haven’t subscribed much more than half enough money. But that’s your look-out, I guess. If you don’t want a decent team, why, you’re going the right way to get what you do want. To those that have contributed generously—and a few have—I offer thanks. The meeting is over.”