who is always at college when he is not fishing. He has money to
burn, and so he's going to set fire to some of it by entrusting it
to the New City Bank.

"Not quite money to burn," said Ed as he carefully threw out the
baited hook again. "I've about twenty thousand dollars that came
from father's estate, and it is stipulated that it must be most
carefully secured. I think the new bank a good investment. But as
for that being a drawing-card in my favor, why look to yourself.
Here's Jack Kimball," went on Ed, "the best musician at Exmouth. The
girls' pet, and, altogether, a very nice boy. I believe that's
all--no, hold on. I never said a word about your weakness for
chicken potpie, although you did appropriate my dish the last day at
college."

"I was hungry," pleaded Jack. "But I thank you for your considerate
description. Do you think that you now have the Chelton folks to
rights?"

"We haven't touched on Walter Pennington. He seems to be the whole
thing with the girls," and Ed did not try to disguise his tone of
sarcasm.

"Oh, yes--Walter," said Jack. "Oh, Walter's all right. He seems to
have more time to spend fussing around the girls than the rest of us
have."

"Is that it?" asked Ed. "I thought it was the other way about. That
the girls had more time for Walter than for the rest of us."