“You’ll have to get a football suit,” said Ned thoughtfully. “They don’t cost much, though. You can get one that’s good enough for about four dollars.”
“That settles it,” said Cal with a satisfied sigh. “That lets me out. I haven’t got four dollars for football clothes.”
“Now, look here,” exclaimed Ned sternly. “You’re rooming with me, Cal Boland, and I’ve got to look after you. And you’ve got to do as I say, and you might as well understand that right now. You’ll go down to the village tomorrow before morning school and get a pair of canvas breeches and a jacket. You ought to have shoes, too, but I think I’ve got a pair upstairs that’ll fit you all right.”
“But I can’t afford it!” objected Cal.
“You’ve got to afford it,” answered Ned sternly. “What’s four dollars?”
“It’s more’n I’ve got to throw away on football things,” Cal replied with a shake of his head. “I cal’late it don’t seem much to you, but four dollars looks big to me, Ned. Besides,” he added after a moment, “I’ve been thinking about a suit. I cal—I guess you’re right about my clothes being pretty bad. I’ve been looking around and I see that the fellows here pay a lot of attention to what they wear. Some of ’em seem to wear their best clothes all the time! Well, I was thinking I’d write home and see what my mother thought about my getting a new suit. You see, Ned, I don’t want you to be ashamed to have me room with you.”
“Oh, piffle! Of course I’m not ashamed. But I do think you ought to have another suit, a sort of knock-about suit you could wear every day, you know.”
“Yes. Well, if I get that I surely can’t go buying any football clothes.”
“Now wait, Cal. There’s a place in the town where you can get a mighty good looking suit for about twelve dollars. Of course, it isn’t a wonder, but it will do well enough. Twelve dollars is pretty cheap, isn’t it?”