“Think so? I wouldn’t want to worry him, Sid. My idea is only to amuse him, to provide diversion.” Blash was silent a moment and Sid, eyeing him doubtfully, stretched a tentative hand toward his book. But Blash wasn’t talked out yet. He chuckled. “Stan told me something funny about Dick yesterday,” he announced. “It seems that he’s a bit of a hero back home and his high school paper has been copying everything about him it could find in _The Leader_ and playing it up hard. Now his father is writing to ask him if he doesn’t do anything here besides play football and is threatening to take him out of school!” “Get out!” Sid looked incredulous. “That’s just one of Stan’s yarns.” “Honest to coconuts, Sid! And Dick’s terribly worried and is afraid the old man will learn that he’s been taken into the Banjo and Mandolin Club. Say if his father hears that, he’ll disown him!” Sid laughed. “Must be a cranky old codger! Most fathers would be rather proud, I guess. I recall that mine slipped me a twenty-dollar check when I wrote home that I’d been elected baseball captain!” “Well, that’s different,” said Blash gently. “You see, he’d never expected much from you, Sid, and the surprise momentarily unnerved him. And I suppose that by the time he’d pulled himself together again and tried to stop payment on that check you had it cashed.” “I sure did,” laughed Sid. “And spent, too, most of it!” “I think I remember the occasion. Well, I’ve been sort of dallying with the notion that there might be a chance to get a rise out of Dick in connection with his father’s--er--attitude. I don’t just see my way clear yet, but--there’s an idea floating around at the back of my brain----” “It will probably die of loneliness,” said Sid comfortingly, “so don’t trouble about it. Just you take my advice and let Dick alone. I’ll tell you right now that I shan’t help you in any of your nefarious plots, Blash.” “That’s all right. I think I’ll be able to work this alone.” Blash stared thoughtfully at the light and a slow smile overspread his lean countenance. “Yes, I think I shall,” he added with conviction. Sid looked across suspiciously. “I’ve a good mind to warn him against you,” he said; “tell him to look out for plots.” “Piffle! You mind my own business. I’m not going to hurt Dick. Besides, I--I haven’t got it quite. It--it eludes muh!” “I hope it’ll continue to elude you. Now, for the love of Pete, shut up and let me study, will you?” “Sure! I didn’t ask you to stop studying. Think your conversation is interesting to me? Go on and study. I’m going to Sohmer.” “Stan’s?” “I might drop in there. Come over when you’re through with that rot. What you want to bother with it for is more than I know, anyway. You’re just making it harder for the rest of us!”