“Message? No, not that I know of. Tell him I hope he will hurry up and get well again.”
“Of course, but—ah!—is there any other member of the family——”
If Dick expected to find a chastened and much reformed pupil at the Point that Monday morning, he was doomed to disappointment. He gathered from a remark that the boy let fall that Mrs. Townsend had kept her promise to speak to him, but Dick doubted if she had accomplished much. And yet there was improvement visible. Harold had actually mastered two of the four lessons and Dick gathered some encouragement.
“I guess we won’t go on with this,” he said toward the end of the period. “You haven’t studied it, Harold. We’ll take it over to-morrow. How did you like the game Saturday?”
“Oh, pretty well! You fellows going to play us again?”
“Maybe, some day. We play Logan Wednesday. Do you care to come over and see it? We might have another lesson in scoring.”
“I guess so. We’re going to play a team from Bay Harbor on Saturday. Say, Loring says if I’ll learn to score, I can be official scorer for the team. I guess I’ll do it.”
“Fine! Then you come over Wednesday, and we’ll try it again. You did very well the other day.”
“Did I really? Gee, but there’s a lot to put down, isn’t there? Caspar’s got six games arranged for the team. Loring says if I’m scorer they’ll take me with them when they go away to play.”
That was really no news to Dick, since it was at his suggestion that Loring had made the offer. But he pretended to be surprised and interested, and said all he could to encourage Harold to learn to score. And Harold became so enthusiastic that he walked over to the trolley car with Dick, talking volubly all the way.
“I wish you’d make a real try at those lessons to-day, Harold,” Dick said, at parting. “Won’t you?”
But the next morning he went through with flying colors, and when Dick complimented him he laughed. “Gee, I can get that stuff all right if I want to,” he said carelessly. “It’s easy.”
“Aw, what’s the use? I’d rather play around, anyway.”
“Don’t you want to go to Rifle Point, Harold?”
“I guess so. I don’t care much. If I do, Loring will be always bossing me about. I’d rather go somewhere else, I guess.”
“Loring’s being there will make things easier for you,” said Dick. “I fancy he’s pretty well liked and the fellows will be nice to you on his account. But I’ll tell you one thing plainly, Harold: You won’t get to Rifle Point this Fall.”