He seems to be the whole
thing with the girls," and Ed did not try to disguise his tone of
sarcasm.
"Oh, yes--Walter," said Jack. "Oh, Walter's all right. He seems to
have more time to spend fussing around the girls than the rest of us
have."
"Is that it?" asked Ed. "I thought it was the other way about. That
the girls had more time for Walter than for the rest of us."
"I don't pretend to understand you," remarked Jack, pulling up
quickly and looking in disgust at his empty hook. "But if you want
anything--why, go in and win, as Priscilla said to John Alden. You
can beat Walter--you're handsomer."
"Drop that!" cried Ed, looking for a clod of earth to throw at Jack.
Then he ran his fingers through his thick, black hair. He was
handsome, but he did not like it "cast up to him."
"Oh, I don't know," he murmured after a pause. "Walter has a way
with him. Girls 'perfectly love' that uncertain shade of hair. It's
capable of being made over to suit--"
"Knocking!" cried Jack. "You're knocking! I'll tell Walter. You
called him a--"
"A first-rate chap, and I mean it!" insisted Ed warmly. "That's just
what I think of Walter Pennington."
"Well, you know what I've always thought of him," and Jack was
equally enthusiastic.
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