"Now about this snarl, Van—what are we going to do? Certainly we fellows are not going to let this feud of our fathers affect us."
"Not by a jugful!" retorted Van with spirit. "The thing for us to do is to go right on being friends as if nothing had happened. It will make it all the easier that your father knows just who I am, and my father knows exactly who you are; it is franker and more in the open to have it so. If worse comes to worse we can talk the whole thing out with our families, and tell them how we feel. I am sure both your father and mine are too big to spoil a friendship like ours because of some fuss they had years and years ago. No, sir! I'm going to hold on to you, Bobbie, and," he added shyly, "I'm going to hold on to your father, too, if he'll let me, for I like him."
"I'm glad you like Dad," Bob said, flushing with pleasure. "I do myself."
"My dad isn't so bad, either," Van ventured with a dry little smile. "Some time you shall see for yourself."
"I hope so."
"Then it is agreed that we'll stick together, no matter what happens," said Van solemnly.
"Sure thing!"
"Promise."
"You may bank on me," was Bob's earnest answer.