"A fellow named Sproule."
"'Dickey' Sproule? He's an awful cad. Why didn't you get a room in the village? You have lots more fun there; and you can get a better room too; although some of the rooms in Warren are not half bad."
"They cost too much," replied March. "You see, father's not very well off, and can't help me much. He pays my tuition, and I've enough money of my own that I've earned working out to make up the rest. So, of course, I've got to be careful."
"Well, you're a queer chap!" exclaimed West.
"Why?" asked Joel March.
"Oh, I don't know. Wanting to study, and earning your own schooling, and that sort of thing."
"Oh, I suppose your father has plenty of money, hasn't he?"
"Gobs! I have twenty dollars a month allowance for pocket money."
"I wish I had," answered March. "You must have a good deal saved up by the end of the year." West stared.
"Saved? Why, I'm dead broke this minute. And I owe three bills in town. Don't tell any one, because it's against the rules to have bills, you know. Anyhow, what's the good of saving? There's lots more." It was March's turn to stare.