“Some fellows would, to set Aunt Hamilton against me.”

“I am not so mean as that.”

“I am glad I can depend on you.  You see, the old lady is awfully rich—­doesn’t know what to do with her money—­and as she has no son, or anybody nearer than me and mother, it’s natural we should inherit her money.”

“I hope she will enjoy it herself for a good many years.”

“Oh, she’s getting old,” said Conrad carelessly.  “She can’t expect to live forever.  It wouldn’t be fair for young people if their parents lived to a hundred.  Now, would it?”

“I should be very glad to have my mother live to a hundred, if she could enjoy life,” said Ben, disgusted with his companoin’s sordid selfishness.

“Your mother hasn’t got any money, and that makes a difference.”

Ben had a reply, but he reflected it would be of little use to argue with one who took such widely different views as Conrad.  Moreover, they were already within a block or two of the theater.

The best seats were priced at a dollar and a half, and Mrs. Hamilton had given Conrad three dollars to purchase one for Ben and one for himself.

“It seems an awful price to pay a dollar and a half for a seat,” said Conrad.  “Suppose we go into the gallery, where the seats are only fifty cents?”

“I think Mrs. Hamilton meant us to take higher-priced seats.”

“She won’t care, or know, unless we choose to tell her.”

“Then you don’t propose to give her back the difference?”

“You don’t take me for a fool, do you?  I’ll tell you what I’ll do.  If you don’t mind a fifty-cent seat, I’ll give you twenty-five cents out of this money.”

Ben could hardly believe Conrad was in earnest in this exhibition of meanness.

“Then,” said he, “you would clear seventy-five cents on my seat and a dollar on your own?”

“You can see almost as well in the gallery,” said Conrad.  “I’ll give you fifty cents, if you insist upon it.”

“I insist upon having my share of the money spent for a seat,” said Ben, contemptuously.  “You can sit where you please, of course.”

“You ain’t very obliging,” said Conrad sullenly.  “I need the money, and that’s what made me propose it.  As you’ve made so much fuss about it, we’ll take orchestra seats.”

This he did, though unwillingly.

“I don’t think I shall ever like that boy,” thought Ben.  “He’s a little too mean.”

They both enjoyed the play, Ben perhaps with the most zest, for he had never before attended a city theater.  At eleven o’clock the curtain fell, and they went out.

“Come, Ben,” said Conrad, “you might treat a fellow to soda water.”

“I will,” answered Ben.  “Where shall we go?”

“Just opposite.  They’ve got fine soda water across the street.”

The boys drank their soda water, and started to go home.