“Well, but, you see how I’m fixed, Gaston,” he said pleadingly. “I—we’ve put quite a little money in this thing, and we can’t afford to lose it. Fact is, between you and me, we—the store hasn’t got started very well yet, and it wouldn’t do at all to get careless about it. Now, if—”
“No, indeed,” agreed Steve quite heartily. “Naturally, you want to make it go. I don’t blame you. I’d see what arrangement I could make, Emerson.” He glanced at Stick. “I dare say Patterson can fix it somehow to take charge in the afternoon long enough for you to get in some work. A couple of hours would do. Patterson would be doing his part, too, that way. Every fellow wants the team to win, of course, and is willing enough to do what he can.”
Patterson looked over and scowled. “That’s all right, Gaston, but I can’t tend that shop morning and afternoon both. I’ve got recitations and things. Seems to me there must be plenty of chaps for your team without Rus!”
“Got to have him, Patterson.” Steve arose smiling calmly but inexorably. “You fellows fix it up between you. You can do it better without me, so I’ll be going along. I’m grateful to you, Emerson, for doing what you’re going to do, even if, as I’ve said, it isn’t as a favor to me. And the School doesn’t miss these things either. Well, I’ll look for you Monday, old man, and I’ll give you a chance to be mighty useful. Good night. Good night, Patterson.”
“Night,” replied Stick morosely.
“Good night,” said Russell. “You—you mustn’t count on me, though, Gaston. I’ll think it over and if there’s any possible way—”
“Sure! I understand. That’s the way to talk.” Steve paused in the open door and smiled back appreciatively. “Monday at three-thirty, then!”
When the door had closed Russell stared blankly across at Stick and Stick scowled darkly back at Russell.
“A nice mess you’ve made of it,” growled Stick disgustedly.