“Say, Harry,” he asked, “do you know a fellow named Sanger, who lives in the town?”
“Johnny Sanger? Sure, I do. He lives over Dole’s store; rooms with a fellow named Sill.”
“Shill; but that’s the chap. Well, what sort of a fellow is he?”
“Sanger? Oh, he’s a sort of a frost. He’s in the second class, I think, and I also think that he was there last year, too. Somebody told me that his folks have lots of money, and give Johnny all he wants, and he doesn’t spend any of it from the time he comes until he goes home in the spring. But I don’t know much about him personally. In fact, he may be a very decent sort, after all; you can’t believe all you hear.”
“And who is Shill?”
“Don’t know him except by sight. He’s a tall and thin youth with an earnest countenance; wears glasses, I think.”
“Are his folks rich, too?”
“Search me, my boy. Say, what the dickens are you after, anyhow? Take me for a city directory, do you? Or a copy of the school catalogue?”
“S-sh, don’t excite yourself,” laughed Hansel. “I’ll tell you all about it. In fact, I want your help. Can I have a few minutes of your valuable time? Or are you going to study?”