"Yes, but never mind the clubs. There are seven of them on the list and
you can get pretty fair ones for a dollar and a half each. What's next?"
"But that makes ten dollars and a half," cried Joel.
"Of course it does. And cheap enough, too. Why, some of mine cost three
dollars apiece! What's next?"
"One dozen Silvertowns."
"Correct; four dollars. Mark it down. Next?"
"Caddie bag," responded Joel faintly.
"A dollar and a half. Next."
"But, West, I can't afford these things."
"Nonsense, March! Still--well, you can call the bag a dollar even;
though the dollar ones aren't worth much. Mine cost five."
"But you have coat and trousers down. And shoes, and--"
"Well, you can leave the shoes out, and get some hobnails and put them
on the soles of any good heavy shoes. Then there's gloves. They cost
about a dollar and a half. As for trousers, you _can_ do with ordinary
ones, but--you've got to have a coat, March. A chap can't swing a club
in a tight-fitting jacket like the one you've got on. Now let's
reckon up."
"There's no use in doing that, West," laughed Joel. "I can't buy one of
these things, to say nothing of the whole list. I'm saving up for my
football togs, and after I have those I sha'n't be able to buy anything
else for months."
West settled his chin in his hand and scowled at the flames. "It's too
bad, March; and I put your name up for the Golf Club, too. You will join
that, won't you? You must, now that I've put you up.
Pages:
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54