“And maybe they’ve got some of those dandy éclairs,” mused Kid as he accompanied “Toots” across the street, “the kind with chocolate on top. Don’t you love those, ‘Toots’?”
“They’re not bad, and that’s a fact. You must have money, Kid.”
“I’ve got almost a dollar, ‘Toots.’” He didn’t explain that it was the change from the five dollar bill supplied him by Ben to buy balls with. “And I’m awfully hungry. Walking always makes me hungry.”
“Well, it’s sort of late to eat,” said “Toots” as he led the way into Haley’s store, “but if they have any of those éclairs, Kid, I guess I can spoil one.”
They had, as it proved; a whole tin tray full of them; and not only were there chocolate éclairs but vanilla and maple éclairs as well, and “Toots” was unable to decide which to take.
“Try a chocolate one first,” advised Kid, jingling his money loudly, “and then have one of the others. Those maple ones are great.”
That seemed a sensible idea and “Toots” followed it. And they each had a bottle of root beer. And after the two éclairs were finished Kid suggested bananas and more root beer. “Toots” declined the root beer but accepted two bananas. Meanwhile they sat on stools and swung their feet and talked baseball. “Toots” told all about his different deliveries, and about how he had had to practice months and months before he had mastered that “fade-away” of his, which, if Kid knew about such things, he would realize was just like Christy Mathewson’s. And Kid listened attentively, admiringly, with open mouth and wide eyes, and called for two apple turnovers and two dill pickles. It was almost half-past twelve when “Toots” brushed the crumbs of a peach tart from his jacket and lowered himself from the stool with a groan of repletion. Kid’s money was spent to the last cent and so there was no use remaining any longer. If “Toots” had not been so taken up with his own recital of his deeds and prowess he might have noticed that Kid had not eaten half of the pastry and fruit and pickles he had seemed to. The floor was littered with food and one of Kid’s pockets was mushy with half-eaten tarts and turnovers.
“Well, much obliged, Kid,” said “Toots” lazily. “That was a bully treat. I’ll stand you some day. I must waddle home to dinner now. Gee, but I’m full! Well, see you later. Don’t forget the signal; like this; see?”
And “Toots” wiggled his left hand in front of his forehead.
“I won’t forget. Thank you, ‘Toots.’” Kid watched the other make his way down the sidewalk. “You bet I won’t forget, ‘Toots.’ You watch me!” he murmured to himself. Then, smiling his cherub smile, Kid hurried back to school.