"Cad'my? Whar?"
"Up in New England. They call it Grantley Academy. Where Ford and Frank are going."
"Dat spiles it all," exclaimed Dick, ruefully. "Now I's got to fish wid fellers 'at don't know nuffin."
"No you wont. You're going with us. It's all fixed, money and all."
Dick would never have thought of questioning a statement made by "Captain Kinzer," but the rueful expression deepened on his face, the basket of eels dropped heavily on the grass, the tough, black fingers twisted nervously together for a moment, and then he sat mournfully down beside the basket.
"It aint no use, Dab."
"No use? Why not?"
"I aint a w'ite boy."
"What of it? Don't you learn well enough over at the school?"
"More dar like me. Wot'd I do in a place whar all de res' was w'ite?"