“I’ve got it,” he said.
“Got what?” Laurie asked.
“The—the clue! I know how to tell you apart! His eyes are different from yours; more blue. Yours are sort of gray. But, geewhillikins, it must be a heap of fun! Being twins, I mean. And fooling people. You understand.”
“Well, if you’re quite through,” snapped Ned, “maybe you’ll call it a day. We’ve got things to do.”
“Meaning you’d like me to beat it?” asked the visitor, good-temperedly.
“Just that!”
“Oh, come, Ned,” Laurie protested, soothingly, “he’s all right. I dare say we are sort of freakish and—”
“Sure,” agreed Proudtree, eagerly, “that’s what I meant. But say, I didn’t mean to hurt any one’s feelings. Geewhillikins, if I got waxy every time the fellows josh me about being fat—” Words failed him and he sighed deeply.
Laurie laughed. “We might start a side-show, the three of us, and make a bit of money. ‘Only ten cents! One dime! This way to the Siamese Twins and the Fat Boy! Walk up! Walk up!’”
Proudtree smiled wanly. “I only weigh a hundred and seventy-eight and three quarters, too,” he said dolorously. “If I was a couple of inches taller it wouldn’t be so bad.”