“Well?”
“It’s up to the girl herself. She’s been in the school nearly four years. She’s two years older than you, and—”
“Two years is nothing,” Billy growled. He was sensitive on that point.
“It’s a lot, Billy. She’s twice as old as you are in knowing things,—some of ’em it would be a whole lot better if she didn’t know. And others she knows—well, she knows ’em just because she’s a girl; and you—you’re only a kid, Billy; not as old as I am in some ways.”
Billy stopped and wheeled. “Say! You’re down on her too. Every one has a black eye for her, it seems.” He walked on, his face averted.
“No, I’m not; but I don’t want to see her get you in trouble, Billy; and that’s what she will, without meaning it, too; because the Kid’s hankering that way, and mighty mad at you.”
“Oh!” With a rush Billy understood some things that had before been enigmatic. “She never cared for Jim,” he said presently.
“Maybe not, but she made him think so. See?”
“I see that we have no business to be talking over any girl in this way.” Billy spoke coldly, and Sydney felt it.
“Billy Bennett, you know I ain’t the kind to harm any girl kid. I wouldn’t talk this over with any living kid but you. But you’re the best friend I got—except Mr. Streeter—and I’m not going to see you—her too—get stung if I can help it. My advice is, go slow there; and you’ll be sorry if you don’t take it.”