Thad was a quick-tempered lad, in which respect he seemed to differ
radically from Hugh, who somehow managed to keep his under wonderful
control, as though he had long practiced holding it in subjection.
Strangely enough, Thad's folks came of Quaker stock, and "thee" and
"thou" had been familiar words to his young ears. But Thad apparently
had not inherited the peaceful ways of his ancestors, for he had been
in more than a few battles with some of his more pugnacious school
companions, nor did he always come out from these encounters first best.

All the same, Thad was a pretty clever chap, and Hugh had always been
very fond of his chum. They got on wonderfully well together, and
seldom had the least "tiff."

It was Thad who had secured his father's old car for the special
occasion. He turned up at Hugh's house about half-past seven that
evening. It was a calm night, and the moon was just rising in the
east, being a little past her full period.

"Say, this couldn't be improved on any, according to my notion, Thad,"
Hugh remarked, as, attracted by the call of the klaxon outside, he
hurried forth, wearing his overcoat, for the night air was quite
chilly, it being still only April.

"A bang-up night for a dance," echoed the enthusiastic Thad; "just cool
enough to keep us from getting overheated. The farmer's wife will make
the coffee, and spread a table for us in her big kitchen, she promised;
and the girls are to provide lots of good things. We're mighty lucky
for once, Hugh."