"Let's see," he said after a moment. "How many lines were we to have in this?"
"I don't remember," I growled. Then I jumped up and grabbed the books. "You make me sick," I said. "I'm going fishing."
I took the books out and slammed the door as hard as it would slam.
The day after we went fishing, and got fourteen trout, I had early breakfast and rode Little Nell over to Harrisbridge and played pool with Nate Golden, whose dad has the livery stable, all morning. We had dinner at the inn, and when I got back it was nearly three o'clock. Tommy, the stable boy, told me as I rode in that Twigg had left word he wanted to see me when I got back. Well, I didn't want to see him. So I went in the kitchen way and up the back stairs to my room. When I opened the door there was Twigg, sitting in the rocker with the books all spread out on the center table.
"Hello," he said. "I'm making myself at home, you see. We're a bit late with lessons, Raymond, so I thought we might have them up here; then we won't interfere with your father's writing."
"I don't know 'em," I said.
"I'm afraid you haven't studied them. Never mind; when you get your boots off we'll go over them together. Here, hold them up. There's no use bothering with jacks when you've got some one to pull them off for you."
I let him do it. He sort of takes you by surprise sometimes and you don't know just what to say or do. Afterwards I threw myself onto the bed and lighted a cigarette. Twigg looked at me and raised his eyebrows.
"Don't smoke while lessons are going on, please," he said.
"Will if I like," I said.