“’Cause we needed the exercise. Also, ’cause we’re down to a dollar and fourteen cents between us—unless you ’re holding out.”
“Well, I’m not!” replied Ned, indignantly. “I paid for the breakfasts in New York—”
“And I paid for dinner on the diner last night—”
“Who said you didn’t?” They went on leisurely, and presently Ned continued: “Say, suppose we don’t like this ranch after we get there—then what, old son?”
Laurie considered thoughtfully. Then, “Two things we can do,” he pronounced. “No, three. We can put up with it, change it to suit us, or leave it.”
“Leave it! Yes, we can! On a dollar and fourteen cents?”
“We’ll have nearly twenty more when we cash Dad’s check and pay the term bill. Twenty dollars would take us back to New York and buy a lot of griddle-cakes, anyway.”
Laurie’s voice was partly drowned by a small delivery automobile that dashed into sight at a corner ahead and sped by with a clamor worthy of a four-ton truck. The brothers looked after it interestedly. “That’s the first sign of life we’ve seen,” said Ned. “Say, I do wish this street would stop twisting this way. First thing we know, we’ll be back at the station!”
“Bet you I’d hop the first freight then. I’ve got a hunch that we’re not going to care for Hillman’s School.”
“Speak for yourself. I am. I like this town, too. It’s pretty.”