“Are you high school fellows?” he asked.
“No.”
“Because, if you were, I could give you the regular high school discount of five per cent. That would make it cost you—let me see—yes, five-ninety-four.”
“We’re Mount Millard fellows,” said one of the boys.
Jimmy pricked up his ears at that. “Mount Millard! Is that so? What sort of a football team have you got over there this year?”
“Pretty good, I guess. Not so good as last year’s, maybe, but—”
“Hope not!” laughed Jimmy. “You beat us badly last year. How do you fellows happen to be so far from home?” Mount Millard was at Warren, and Warren was some eighteen miles from Alton.
“We came over to go to the dentist’s,” the boy explained. “There isn’t a decent one in Warren.”
“Nor anything else,” mourned his companion.