“You didn’t, Cal,” he said. “I don’t know how I know it, but I do. I—I’m sorry.”
Cal nodded, his gaze straight ahead.
“That’s all right,” he muttered.
[CHAPTER XIX]
THE SECOND GAME
Ned took entire charge of the negotiations at the clothing store and all Cal had to do was to stand by, listen, watch and try on the various suits that were brought forth. Ned refused to consider anything under twelve dollars.
“Those cheap things don’t pay, Cal,” he said decisively. “They’re just shoddy; not an ounce of wool in them; and they won’t wear two weeks without getting to look like rags.”
“The suit I brought back,” confided Cal in a voice lowered so as not to pain the salesman, “seemed to be most all splinters and pieces of bur.”
“All wood and a yard wide,” commented Ned with no effort to moderate his voice and no concern for the clerk’s feelings. “Probably made from one of those wooden sheep you see in the toy-shops.”