“Sure,” he replied, as though he had several dollars in his pockets, with which to buy tickets. “I’ll meet you there. Seen Tom Berwick?” he went on. “Yep. He’s down in Newton’s drug store buying sodas.” Jack turned his steps thither, and met Tom coming from the place. Tom was wiping his mouth in a suggestive manner. “Why didn’t you see me a minute sooner?” he asked. “I’d have bought you a soda,” for Tom was a most generous lad. “Wish you had,” replied Jack. “Say, Tom, want to buy my catching glove?” “What’s the matter with it?” asked Tom quickly, for he had several times before offered to purchase the big mitt, only to be met with a refusal. “Ain’t it any good?” “Sure, it’s good!” “Then what you want to sell for?” “Well, I’m going to play short this season, and I don’t need a catching glove. It’s a dandy. Look at it,” and Jack handed it to Tom, having taken off the paper wrapping when he was out of sight of the professor’s house. “It’s all right,” acknowledged Tom, after a critical inspection. “How much?” “Give me two dollars?” Jack had his own ideas about finance. “Go on. I will not.” “It cost seven.” “Yes; two seasons ago. I can get a new one for three dollars.” “Not like that.” “Well, maybe not, but good enough.” “I’ll let you have it for a dollar and a half,” went on Jack. “That’s cheap enough.” “Give you a dollar,” replied Tom quickly, who knew how to bargain. “All right,” and Jack sighed a little. He had hoped to get enough to put aside some cash for future emergencies. Tom passed over the dollar. Then he tried on the glove. It certainly was a good one. “Come on in and I’ll treat you to a soda,” he proposed generously, for he decided that he had obtained a bargain, and could afford to treat. “Going to the show?” asked Tom, as the two came out of the drug store. “Sure. That’s what I sold the glove for.” “What’s the matter? Don’t your dad send you any money?” “Yes, he left some for me, but it’s like pulling teeth to get it from old Klopper. He wouldn’t give me even fifty cents to-night, and he sent me to my room. But I sneaked out, and I’m going to have some fun.” “That’s the way to talk! He’s a regular hard-shell, ain’t he?” “I should say yes! But come on, or maybe we won’t get a good seat.” “Oh, I got my ticket,” replied Tom. “Besides, I want to take this glove home. I’ll see you there.” Jack hastened to the town auditorium, where, occasionally, traveling theatrical shows played a one-night stand. There was quite a throng in front of the box office, and Jack was afraid he would not get a seat, but he managed to secure one well down in front.