If you don't
know it, I'm telling you. If I thought different, I'd say so."
Deacon abruptly paused after so long a speech.
"You don't have to tell me. I know it. We're not throwing a race to
Shelburne simply to please old Cephas Doane, naturally. I know what
you've got, Jim. So does Dr. Nicholls. You'll be in the varsity
to-morrow. But here's the point of what I've been trying to say;
Junior Doane hasn't been very decent to you--"
"Oh, he's been all right."
"Yes, I know. But he's a funny fellow; not a bit of a snob--I don't
mean that, but--but--"
"You mean he hasn't paid much attention to me." Deacon smiled grimly.
"Well, that's all right. As a matter of fact, I never really have
got to know him. Still, I haven't got to know many of the fellows.
Too busy. You haven't paid much attention to me, either; but I like
you."
Rollins, whose father was a multimillionaire with family roots going
deep among the rocks of Manhattan Island, laughed.
"Bully for you! You won't mind my saying so, Jim, but I had it in my
mind to ask you to be a bit inconsequential--especially when Doane
was around--about your taking his place. But I guess it isn't
necessary."
"No,"--Deacon's voice was short--"it isn't."
"Junior Doane, of course, will be hard hit.
Pages:
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330