“So you got it!” exclaimed Tom. “Gee, but I’m awfully glad, Sam! Shake! Now let’s see what you need. What shade of blue do you suppose that means? Dark, I guess. Here you are, then. Eighty-five cents each. You’ll need two of them. Sneakers are ninety-five and a dollar and a quarter. Better pay the difference, Sam. The cheaper ones aren’t much. What about flannel trousers? I’m afraid--Oh, you’ve got a pair? All right. Then that leaves only the sweater. What colour?” “It doesn’t say. What do you think?” “Guess it doesn’t matter, Sam. Grey’s usually the best because it won’t fade and doesn’t show dirt, but you can have blue or red or white or----” “Grey, I guess; and not very expensive.” “Here’s one for two and a half and here’s a better one for three and here’s----” “I guess this three-dollar one will do, Tom. Do I get anything off on this truck?” “Certainly; fifteen off, Sam. That makes it--let me see--five dollars and six cents; call it five dollars even, Sam. What about the raincoat?” “I’ve got an old one that will do, I guess. You see, I don’t want to spend very much, because the fare up there and back comes to over nine dollars, and that’s two weeks’ wages.” “He didn’t say anything about paying your fare, then?” Sam shook his head. “He wouldn’t, would he?” “I don’t know. Seems to me he ought to pay it one way, at least, though, Sam. I’d mention it to him, anyway.” “Maybe I will,” replied Sam doubtfully. “Well, I guess that’s all, then. I’ll take these things along with me. How many boys do you suppose there will be up there, Tom?” “I don’t know. Maybe forty or fifty. And look here, Sam.” Tom walked around the counter when he had finished tying up the bundle and seated himself on the edge, swinging his legs. “Don’t do this,” he explained, “when there’s customers around. Look here, Sam. About those kids, now. Take my advice and start ’em off right.” “How do you mean, Tom?” “I mean make ’em understand right away that you won’t take any nonsense from them. Of course, a summer camp’s different from a school, I suppose, and there’s a lot more--more give-and-take between the councillors and the boys, but it’s a good idea, I guess, to make the kids understand that while you love ’em all to death you aren’t going to tell ’em to do a thing more than once. Get the idea? Kind but firm, Sam.” “Anyone would think you invented boys’ camps,” said Sam, with a twinkle. Tom laughed. “Never you mind whether I did or not, Sam. You do as I tell you and you’ll find things going easier. You aren’t enough older than the boys to make ’em much scared of you, so you want to hold the reins pretty tight at first. No charge for the advice. When do you go?” “Seven-ten on the fifth. That gets me to East Mendon at eleven-twenty. Then there’s a stage-coach or something that goes over to the Lake at two.” “I’ll go down and see you off, Sam, and wish you luck.”