“Hal,” said Walter in a low tone as the other landed, “I know where you get your fish.”
Hal turned and faced him. “What are you talking about?” he said roughly.
Walter flushed and instinctively his fists doubled, but he kept a check on his temper. “You have bought your record fish of Pat Malone,” he said evenly.
It was the other’s turn to flush, but he maintained his air of bravado.
“That’s silly,” he jeered.
“No it isn’t, and you know it,” replied Walter.
“Well, what are you going to do about it?” asked the other sulkily, seeing that denial was useless.
“I don’t know,” replied Walter sadly. “Say, Hal, why don’t you go own up to Dr. Merriam and ask him to try and put you right with the fellows?”
“What do you take me for? I’m in bad enough now. If you don’t blab who’s going to know it? And if you turn telltale I guess my word’s as good as yours,” sneered Hal.
“For two cents I’d punch——” began Walter hotly, then pity for the unfortunate boy before him calmed him. “Hal, I’m not going to say anything to-night, anyway. Do the right thing. Remember your Scout’s oath,” he begged.