“Glad to have you drop around at my room some time,” said Lee. “I’m in West; Number 7.”
“Same here,” added Laurie; “16 East Hall. Thanks, Starling.”
“You’re welcome. Come in again, fellows. When I get that tennis-court fixed up, we’ll have some fun here. You needn’t wait for that, though. I’d like you to meet my father and aunt. No one’s at home just now. I say, better take a couple of umbrellas.”
“Not worth it, thanks,” answered Lee. “After that deluge, this is just an April shower. So long!”
Lee’s statement wasn’t much of an exaggeration, and the three continued their way to the school unhurriedly. George remarked gloomily that it didn’t look awfully promising for tennis on the morrow, adding: “I’ll bet that chap’s a corking good player, too.”
“Maybe you’ll learn a little about the game from him,” said Laurie, sweetly. “How old do you say he is?”
“Starling? Oh, seventeen, maybe. He’s in upper middle.”
“Sixteen, more likely,” said George. “He seems a decent sort, eh? How did you come to know him?”
“I didn’t really know him. He’s in some of my classes and we’ve spoken a couple of times. Rather a—an interesting kind of chap. Wonder what his father does here. Funny place for him to come to. He spoke of an aunt, but didn’t say anything about a mother. Guess she’s dead. Auntie probably keeps house for them.”
As they entered the gate George chuckled and Laurie asked, “What’s your trouble, Old-Timer!”