it?” Chub looked across at Roy dubiously, and Roy shook his head.
“Not very,” he answered; “but you can’t tell. I guess he will let us down easy. He’s a good sort, is the Floating Artist.”
“Well—” Chub tossed the note aside and went back to Dick Somes’s letter. “‘I suppose her father or mother or some one would have to go along, but that needn’t make much difference. She’s wild to know, so you’d better drop her a line pretty soon and tell her what you think about it. If you don’t she’s likely to explode!’”
“And that’s so, too, I guess!” chuckled Roy. “Say, it would be awfully jolly if we four could get together again this summer, wouldn’t it?”
“Dandy!” answered Chub. “And we’ll do it, too,” he added stoutly.
“I don’t believe so. Something will happen at the last moment,” said Roy dejectedly. “You’ll see.”
“My gentle croaker, let me finish this. … ‘I got through exams O. K. and got my diploma to-day. So I’ll see you fellows in the fall if we don’t make it before. That is, if I can pass at college. I wish you’d speak a good word for me
