groceries themselves because the tang in the clear, snappy
weather made the errand enjoyable!

As the door of the butcher shop closed behind him, he saw Shultz, leader
of the "Jeffersons" and sworn enemy, tugging at a heavy suitcase as he
struggled to keep pace with the athletic young lady to whom it belonged.

Why couldn't he do likewise? Three ten-cent suitcase jobs would bring
his capital to a dollar and twenty-four cents, and that was better than
nothing.

As soon as he had eaten, he left the house on the trot for the suburban
station, where he had seen his football rival. He waited in front of the
three iron turnstiles, now dancing up and down, now watching the ants in
a hill which was forming between two paving blocks, and now scanning the
thrice reread headlines of the papers on the unpainted news stand by the
station entrance. A gentleman came with golf sticks bound for the park
links; there came ladies innumerable who had been delayed on their
shopping expedition--and still no sign of employment. Locals came and
went, and expresses followed on twenty-minute runs until his memory
failed in counting them, before a puffy, white-moustached gentleman in
tweeds grunted a noisy passage down the platform steps.

"Satchel carried, sir?"

"How far is it to the hotel."

John explained. The traveler should have left the train at the station
three blocks to the south. But it wasn't so very far, even at that.
"Shall I carry it for you?" he concluded.

The man nodded jerkily and paused to light a cigarette. As they left,
Shultz sauntered up and stood aghast at this invasion of his territory.

"Hey!" he ejaculated finally.

John held his course, grip in either hand. He was a little nervous, but
his business rival dared not take revenge while his patron was with him.
After that--well, he guessed he could take care of himself if that
"tough"--a term of endearment used by the "Tigers"--bothered him.

A lapse of ten minutes found him fingering a quarter as he stood on the
broad hotel steps. Would he go back, when such fees were in prospect?
You bet. That dirty-faced kid had no mortgage on the place. He'd like to
see any trouble between them. He would call out the "Tigers," he would!

Shultz was pacing up and down in front of the station when John came up.
The expression on his face was far from pleasant, and the boy began to
regret his fit of bravado. But shucks, that tough wouldn't dare do
anything. He stopped at the