“Well, here’s how it is.” Kid looked grave. “I—I have to make a little money, fellows. You see, my folks don’t—don’t send me much of an allowance now.” He paused and looked thoughtfully into the fire. The smiles faded on the faces of the others. Kid gulped and went on. “Of course, I can’t—can’t be self-supporting—yet, but I thought I could make enough to—to help, you know.” His voice trailed off into silence and there was a sympathetic silence around the fireplace. At length,
“Do you mean that you are going to sell the—the stuff?” asked Ben Holden.
“Yes. The tablets are only twenty-five cents a box. Of course that isn’t all profit, not by any means, but I make a little on each box. I don’t expect to sell many here at school, but maybe in the village and over at Riveredge and Whittier I can do pretty well.”
“I’m afraid you’ll never get rich that way,” said Steve Lovell kindly. “But you may make a little. Are the things really any good, Kid?”
“Fine! I’ve got some unsolicited testimonials I’d like you to read, Steve. I’ll get you a copy if you like.”
“No, never mind. Got any of the pills with you?”
Kid fished in his pockets doubtfully and seemed quite surprised when three boxes rewarded his search. He passed one to Steve, doing his best to avoid the indignant gaze of Small. Lanny was viewing him doubtfully, suspiciously, but it was Small that Kid feared might spoil the impression he had created. And so Kid, recalling that someone had once said that the way to make war was to start first was quite prepared. Steve sniffed at the tablets and made a face.
“Well, they smell bad enough,” he said.
“If you think they smell bad, you ought to taste ’em!” broke forth Small. “They’re the nastiest tasting things I ever——”
“But they cured your cough, didn’t they, Small?” interrupted Kid eagerly. “He just took one of them, fellows, and I don’t believe he has coughed since! Have you, Small? He had a fierce cough too; you fellows know how bad it was. I was getting real worried about him.”