"Some of the East Siders. They cater to him a lot, and you know," said
Lance, with disgust, "tight as Purt is with money, if you flatter him you
can pull his leg."

"Dear me!" murmured Laura, "it is not in your province to use such slang,
Lance. Leave that to Chet and Bobby."

"Hey, Pretty!" Chet shouted to the very dandified lad, as he crossed the
street toward them. "What luck, old top?"

Although when they had first seen him, Prettyman Sweet was undoubtedly
footsore, he began to strut now and pride "fairly exuded from his
countenance," as Jess whispered to her chum.

"Did you get any cottontails?" demanded Lance.

"Oh, a few--a few, muh boy," declared Pretty Sweet airily.

Then they saw that he had a game bag slung over his shoulder in true
sportsman style.

"I did not suppose you would go out to shoot the poor, innocent little
rabbits, Mr. Sweet," said Laura, with sober face but dancing eyes. "They
have never done you any harm."

"I bet a real bad rabbit would make Purt run," muttered Bobby.

"Oh, Miss Belding!" said the school dandy. "You know I'm awf'ly keen on
sport--awf'ly keen, doncher know. I just _have_ to get a day now and then