“School closes on the twenty-third of June; I’ll be ready the morning of the twenty-fourth.”
“That’s Saturday. I won’t take any fellow from school till he’s had a vacation; come Monday, the twenty-sixth.” He laughed at his own joke, and opened the door, and Billy knew the interview was ended, yet he tried to stammer his thanks.
“I’m very—I’m—”
“Get out with you! I won’t be thanked for helping you to ruin yourself!” Mr. Smith blustered, and shut the door on Billy.
Ruin himself! The words roused a sudden anger. He’d show them! This course that he was taking was not his own choice; circumstances forced it on him. It was the right thing to do, and right never ruined any one. Or if it did—He looked up as he walked and saw a lineman high among the deadly light wires, held only by belt and spurs, busily splicing wires and whistling at his work.
“That’s it,” Billy thought. “Do what I have to do as well and carefully as I can, and then—whistle.”
CHAPTER VIII
THE POTATO ROAST
A FEW nights later came the rally of the Progressives before their election for playground officers. Since the episode of the stilts Hector had taken a prominent part in playground affairs, and some thought it was hurting his candidacy for president of the student body,—that it was too small a matter for high-school students to consider. But he held to his course.
The election for president was due the next week. Jim had decided on the next afternoon, Friday, for Walter Buckman’s last demonstration. Hector’s party had held their preëlection meeting also; but this playground rally would be one more opportunity to test Hector’s strength.