"I don't pretend to understand you," remarked Jack, pulling up
quickly and looking in disgust at his empty hook. "But if you want
anything--why, go in and win, as Priscilla said to John Alden. You
can beat Walter--you're handsomer."

"Drop that!" cried Ed, looking for a clod of earth to throw at Jack.
Then he ran his fingers through his thick, black hair. He was
handsome, but he did not like it "cast up to him."

"Oh, I don't know," he murmured after a pause. "Walter has a way
with him. Girls 'perfectly love' that uncertain shade of hair. It's
capable of being made over to suit--"

"Knocking!" cried Jack. "You're knocking! I'll tell Walter. You
called him a--"

"A first-rate chap, and I mean it!" insisted Ed warmly. "That's just
what I think of Walter Pennington."

"Well, you know what I've always thought of him," and Jack was
equally enthusiastic. "Walter is the kind of a fellow that will keep
without canning."

"Meaning some others won't--such as Sid, for example?"

"Well, he's very `close' sometimes, so to speak. At least very hard
to understand. But let's talk about something else. When do you go
over to the bank, to stand and deliver your good cash, bonds and
securities for their stock?"