Walt shot a questioning glance at Terry. “Don’t you know, Hal? Why, Terry has decided to quit us,” answered Walt. “What’s next, Terry? The Tennis Team?”
Terry flared instantly, quite as much to his own surprise as to theirs, for he was not usually quick-tempered. “You mind your own business, Walt,” he snapped. “I’ll attend to mine.”
Walt flushed. “Is that so?” he sneered. “Well, I’m just curious, that’s all. There’s only the Tennis Club left, you know. Unless you go in for chess.”
“Cut it out, Walt,” said Joe. “Let him alone.”
“Then tell him to let me alone. I didn’t say anything to make him jump down my throat. Everyone here knows he’s had a whack at everything there is and fallen down. If he doesn’t like to hear that he knows what he can do. I’m ready to——”
Terry leaped to his feet. “Then come on!” he cried, his eyes blazing. “If you can do anything besides talk, prove it, you—you big——”
“Shut up, Terry!” commanded Joe sternly. “And sit down. There isn’t going to be any scrapping. You mustn’t fly off the handle like that. And you, Walt, shouldn’t say such things. There’s no disgrace in trying and failing as long as you don’t grouch about it. Terry’s plucky to keep on trying, I think.”
“Of course he is,” agreed Tolly warmly. “You shut up, Walt.”
Walt shrugged disdainfully. “Oh, very well. Four against one——”
“There’s one thing I haven’t fallen down at yet,” interrupted Terry, still angry, “and that’s running, and——”