“I’ve never before had a chance to see much of St. Timothy’s,” he said. “When I’ve come over with the team, it’s always been just to go straight to the athletic field and then home again. What’s that?”
“That’s the Lower School. Over there is the Library. That big brown house is where Dr. Davenport lives. Do you have as fine buildings at St. John’s?”
“Oh, much finer.”
“Go on.” Edward jostled his brother good-naturedly.
“Well, just as good. What’s this punk-looking place?”
“This is the gymnasium. The inside of it is pretty good, anyhow.”
When they entered, Charles peered about with a critical interest.
“Almost as big as ours,” he acknowledged finally. “Where are you going to put my things?”
Edward took him down to the locker-room, and from there to the room where were the rowing-machines.
