"So long, Fred," he called as he turned his wheel to the left. "So long,
Charley."
"See you to-night!" they called back.
"No--I can't come," he answered.
"Aw, come on," they begged.
"No, I've got to dig.--So long!"
As he went on alone, his face grew grave and a vague worry came into his
eyes. He began resolutely to whistle, but this dwindled away till it was
a thin and very subdued little sound, which ceased altogether as he rode
up the driveway to a large two-storied house.
"Oh, Joe!"
He hesitated before the door to the library. Bessie was there, he knew,
studiously working up her lessons. She must be nearly through with them,
too, for she was always done before dinner, and dinner could not be many
minutes away. As for his lessons, they were as yet untouched. The thought
made him angry. It was bad enough to have one's sister--and two years
younger at that--in the same grade, but to have her continually head and
shoulders above him in scholarship was a most intolerable thing. Not that
he was dull. No one knew better than himself that he was not dull. But
somehow--he did not quite know how--his mind was on other things and he
was usually unprepared.
"Joe--please come here." There was the slightest possible plaintive note
in her voice this time.
"Well?" he said, thrusting aside the portiere with an impetuous movement.
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