The next morning Cal awoke with a feeling of excitement difficult to account for during the first moments of consciousness. Then he remembered that today was the day of the second football contest and that his new suit of clothes awaited him in the closet. He wasn’t sure which excited him the most, the football game or the new clothes. Anyway, the latter came first. He sprang out of bed, washed and then got the suit from the closet. Ned, sitting on the edge of his bed, looked on silently, unwashed and undressed, while his roommate clothed himself in the new apparel. Cal pulled at the waistcoat in a vain endeavor to make it set better and yanked the coat up at the back in the hope that it would somewhere come into relationship with his collar. Both efforts were fruitless. All the time he was embarrassedly aware of Ned’s unflinching stare. At last Ned spoke.

“Take them off,” he said quietly.

“Wh-what?”

“Take them off.”

“Why? What for? What’s the matter with them?” Cal faltered.

“Matter!” cried Ned. “What isn’t the matter? They look—they look like a couple of gunny-sacks! They don’t fit anywhere! The trousers are the same size all the way down and are three inches too long for you. The vest wrinkles across the top and the coat—” Words failed him for a moment. “The coat is the worst I ever saw! It doesn’t touch you anywhere except on the shoulders, and one sleeve’s an inch longer than the other! Matter with it! Gee, what’s right with it?”

“It—it was cheap,” Cal defended.

“It looks it!” was the disgusted reply. “It’s the ugliest cloth I ever saw in my life. We used to have a Newfoundland dog that was about twelve years old and had grown gray and grizzled. I couldn’t stand looking at that suit, Cal. It would remind me too much of poor old Charlie.”

“Well, I’ve bought it and—”

“Take it off!” commanded Ned inexorably. “I’m not going to have any fellow that rooms with me make a show of himself if I can help it.”

“But—but what can I do?” asked Cal discouragedly, eyeing the subject of Ned’s disparagement with sudden distaste. “I’ve paid for it.”

“And you paid enough for it, too. What can you do? You do as I tell you. You take it off and bundle it up. After breakfast I’ll go to the village with you and I’ll pick out a suit that doesn’t look like poor old Charlie.”

“You mean—change it? Will they let me?”

“Of course they will, though they won’t want to, maybe. I’ll bet the clerk that got rid of that suit to you got a raise in salary last night!”

“It looked a lot better in the store,” murmured Cal.

“Yes; well we’ll take it back to the store. That’s where it belongs. My, but you were easy, weren’t you? How much did you say it cost?”

“Nine dollars and eighty-five cents,” replied Cal meekly.

“Nine dollars too much, then. Was that all you could pay?”

“No, but it looked like a perfectly good—”

“I guess they hypnotized you, Cal,” sighed Ned, beginning to dress himself. “Don’t let the other fellows see it, please; take it off right now before anything happens to it.”

Cal obeyed. He didn’t for a moment resent Ned’s criticism, for the suspicion that his purchase was not all he had thought it had already taken hold of him. Besides, it was awfully nice to have Ned talk to him, even if he was cross. He got into his old suit again, folded the new one back into the pasteboard box and tied it up.

“I guess you don’t have to go with me, Ned,” he said.

“Don’t I? I wouldn’t trust you to buy a—a paper collar after this! You bet I’ll go with you!”

So after breakfast they started off together, Cal with the big box under his arm. Now that the matter was settled they seemed to have nothing more to say to each other and trudged along in perfect silence for the first quarter of a mile. Cal would have liked to talk. His resentment, he discovered to his surprise, had disappeared and his liking and admiration for Ned, which, he saw now, had only been smothered out of sight, made him want to get back again to the old friendly footing. When they turned into the cross road Cal summoned courage and spoke.

“It’s good of you to bother, Ned,” he said.

“Why?” asked Ned grimly. “When I pay for anything I want it decent; that’s all.” The tone was decidedly ungracious, while the more Cal pondered the words the less he liked them.

“When you pay for anything?” he repeated questioningly.

“That’s what I said,” answered Ned without turning.

Cal felt the blood creeping up into his face, but he went on in silence for a minute. Then,

“What do you mean by that, Ned?” he asked quietly.

“What I said.”

Another minute went by. The resentment and anger that had been simmering in Cal for a long time was threatening to boil over, but he strove hard to hold his temper in check.

“I paid for this suit myself, didn’t I?” he asked presently. Ned made no reply. Cal repeated the question: “Didn’t I, Ned?”

“So you say,” answered the other carelessly.

“Don’t you know that I did?” Cal’s voice was trembling.

“Sure,” said Ned ironically. Cal scowled and clenched his hands. Then,

“Look here,” he burst out, “you think I stole that money of yours, don’t you?”

“I never accused you of it,” replied Ned in an ugly tone.

“But you think so.”

“My thoughts are my own, I guess.”

“No, they’re not! You might as well say it as think it. I never even saw your old money. Now, do you believe that?”

There was a moment’s silence, and then Ned turned and looked his room-mate squarely in the face.

“What’s the use of lying, Cal?” he asked with a shrug of his shoulders. “You were the only fellow who knew the money was there, and Spud saw you at my bureau that night.”

“I wasn’t out of bed!”

“Yes, you were,” replied Ned calmly, “for I saw you too.”

“You—saw me!” gasped Cal in amazement. Ned nodded.

“Yes, I woke up for a minute and saw you by the window. I was sleepy and paid no attention and went to sleep again. I didn’t think anything of it until Spud spoke of it after I’d missed the money.”

“You must have dreamed it! I tell you I wasn’t out of bed that night, Ned!” declared Cal earnestly.

“All right, say I did dream it,” answered Ned wearily. “Say Spud and I both dreamed the same thing. It doesn’t matter now. Only, for the love of Mike, don’t act as though I’d hurt you. I won’t stand that—that confounded injured innocence of yours. Hang it, I did all I could to keep the other fellows from guessing, but I’m not going to pretend that you didn’t take it just to please you! You needed the money and you took it. You ought to be satisfied.”

“You lie, Ned!”

“I do, eh?” said Ned angrily. “Where’d you get the money to pay for those clothes, I’d like to know.”

“My mother sent it. I wrote home for it. I can show you her letter. I didn’t take your money, and—and—”

“Don’t lie about it, I tell you!” cried Ned hotly. “If you must steal—”

“I cal’late we’d better settle this right now,” interrupted the other, ominously calm. He dropped the box at the side of the road and stepped toward Ned with white face and blazing eyes. There was no one in sight in either direction. Ned shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not going to fight you,” he sneered. “Why should I?”

“You’ve got to,” said Cal grimly, clenching his hands.

“I like that! Swipe my coin and then want to lick me!”

The next instant he was reeling back toward the grass, for Cal had struck him fair on the face with the palm of his hand. Ned steadied himself and stared.

“That’s different,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to fight with a thief, but I will!”

Ned was Cal’s senior by nine months, but his superiority ended there, for the younger boy was stronger and harder of muscle. Perhaps had they stuck to scientific methods Ned would have won that short engagement, for Cal knew little of boxing. His methods were primitive but effective. He met Ned’s rush as best he might, receiving a blow on his chin that staggered him for an instant, and then sprang past the other’s guard, threw his arms around him and strove to throw him. Ned rained blows against Cal’s head, but they were too short to do much damage. For a moment they swayed there, panting and gasping in the middle of the dusty road, Ned hammering short blows against the back of his adversary’s head and Cal paying no heed to them, intent only on getting Ned at his mercy. At last he managed to get one arm across Ned’s chest and gripped his shoulder. At the same instant he put a knee behind the other and in a twinkling they were flat in the weeds by the roadside, a cloud of dust about them. But Cal was on top, and although Ned struggled and writhed, he held his place. There were no blows struck now. Cal had Ned at his mercy and knew it. And it wasn’t long before Ned realized it too and stopped struggling.

“Go ahead,” he panted. “I’m down. Hit me!”

“I’m going to if you don’t take it back,” answered Cal grimly. “I’m going to hit you till you say you believe me. Do you?”

The white, strained faces were close and two pairs of angry eyes glared hatred at each other.

“No!” cried Ned.

Cal raised a fist.

“You’d better. I didn’t take your money. Believe that?”

“No!”

But the blow didn’t fall. Cal’s eyes fell instead.

“I cal’late I can’t,” he muttered.

“Go ahead! You—you thief! Hit me! I dare you to!”

Again Cal raised his closed hand and again it dropped back. Tears came to his eyes. “Gee, Ned, I just can’t!” he sobbed. For a long moment the two boys looked at each other. Then Ned’s eyes closed.

“Let me up, Cal,” he said quietly.

Cal released him and arose. Ned climbed to his feet, picked his cap from the dust and examined his bleeding knuckles.

“Suppose there’s any water around here?” he asked. Cal shook his head.

“There’s the brook further along,” he answered subduedly. He picked up his own cap and rescued his box.

“Come on, then,” said Ned.

They went on along the road to the brook in silence. There Ned laved his bruised and swollen hand, and Cal, wetting his handkerchief, held it to his chin. Presently they went on again, Cal hugging the box. Nothing was said until they reached the main road and the village lay in sight ahead. Then Ned turned curiously to his companion.

“Why didn’t you hit, Cal?” he asked. Cal shook his head.

“I don’t know, Ned. I just couldn’t, somehow.”

“I guess,” said Ned presently, “we’re a couple of idiots, Cal.” Cal nodded without looking at him. It was almost a block further along that Ned spoke again.

“You didn’t, Cal,” he said. “I don’t know how I know it, but I do. I—I’m sorry.”

Cal nodded, his gaze straight ahead.

“That’s all right,” he muttered.