“I guess we were kind of charged up,” Jerry said sheepishly. “What’ll you have, Pepper?”
“A Coke, please. And please remember not to put cracked ice in it.”
“Why no ice, Pepper?”
“It makes my teeth chatter,” Pepper said, and then, hearing Jerry snicker, he flushed darkly and turned to Sandy to sneer, “So your old man’s going to Minnesota?”
“Do you mean my father?” Sandy said, with a quiet note of warning in his voice.
Sandy’s reply flustered Pepper March. He turned away to sip his drink, pretending not to have heard. Sandy studied his old rival. As usual, Stanley Peperdine March was dressed in the height of fashion. When Pepper March was around, it was never hard to tell which boy came from the wealthiest family in Valley View. In fact, Pepper’s people were among the richest in the state. And he rarely overlooked a chance to let the world know about it.
Sandy Steele moved down behind the counter a bit so as to look Pepper in the eye, and said, “As I said before, Pepper, did you mean my father?”
Pepper looked deliberately at the soda jerk’s cap and white apron that Sandy wore and said, “It seems to me that you’re getting kind of uppity for a hired hand.”
Sandy felt himself flushing. He fought hard to keep control of himself, and he carefully avoided looking into Pepper’s taunting eyes for fear of getting angrier. Then he felt Jerry’s reassuring hand on his arm and heard him say, “Be careful, Pepper, I’m warning you.”
“Oh, you two. Can’t you take a little joke? Of course, I meant his father. What’s the difference, anyway? Father, old man—”