When the newspaper man had gone Dick went out to the porch and sank into his favorite chair beside the little table. He was tired and the day was a scorching hot one. There had been a solid three hours that morning with Harold Townsend and, although Harold had done his share without a whimper, it had been pretty hard for teacher as well as pupil. Dick closed his eyes and frowned in the green shadow of the vines. Was Harold going to make it? There were times when Dick was sure that he would, but also there were moments, usually when, as to-day, he was fagged out, when he had his doubts. If Harold could remember what he had learned when the time came he would undoubtedly get through, but there was always the danger that he wouldn’t. Dick sighed. At least, though, he reflected, his frown fading, he was doing his honest best for the boy. And—and here the frown quite disappeared—he had made a nice lot of money that was greatly needed. He would, he told himself, have enough by the middle of the month, when Harold went off to Rifle Point to put the summer’s work to the test, to pay for a new heater for the house. That was the most necessary improvement of the many that were needed. For the last two or three years the old furnace, never satisfactory, had quite failed to keep them comfortable in cold weather. Dick was wondering how much the hardware man would allow him for it when the gate clicked and Gordon and Morris Brent came up the path. Morris still used his crutches, but, as he explained, the doctor had told him yesterday that he might lay them aside in another week. “And I’ll be mighty glad to,” he added. “They’re rotten things to have to get about with.” Then his eye fell on Dick’s crutches, leaning within reach, and he colored. “I guess I oughtn’t to kick, though,” he added hastily. Dick smiled. “They are awkward if you’re not used to them, I suppose, Morris. I’m glad you’re getting on so well. Gordon says you’re going to move to the Point this week.” Morris nodded. “Wednesday,” he said. “I want you and Gordon to come out some evening and have dinner. Will you?” “Why, yes, I’d be glad to, Morris. Thank you.” “Then I’ll settle on a day with the folks. Mother told me to tell you she wanted very much to have you. Louise, too. How would Saturday do?” “All right, I think. We have a game Saturday, but I dare say it will be over by five. What time do you dine?” “Seven. That’ll give you heaps of time. I’m going to fetch Louise in to see the game and we can all go back together.” Morris turned to Gordon. “That suit you?” he asked. “Finely. Could we get the quarter of six car, do you think? I’d like mighty well to get a swim before dinner. Got an extra bathing suit out there?” “You can take mine. What do you want to do with this?” Morris held up a book in a red cloth cover. “Oh, I brought that over for you, Dick,” said Gordon. “That is, I borrowed it and he brought it. Thought you might like to look it over.”