“Why not, as well as you?”

This was a hard question; and, as Bobby did not wish to be uncivil, he talked about a big pout he hauled in at that moment, instead of answering it.  He was politic, and deprecated the anger of the bully; so, though Tom plied him pretty hard, he did not receive much satisfaction.

“You see, Tom,” said he, when he found that his companion insisted upon knowing the cost of the books, “this is a publisher’s secret; and I dare say they would not wish every one to know the cost of books.  We sell them for a dollar apiece.”

“Humph!  You needn’t be so close about it.  I’ll bet I can find out.”

“I have no doubt you can; only, you see, I don’t want to tell what I am not sure they would be willing I should tell.”

Tom took a slate pencil from his pocket, and commenced ciphering on the smooth rock upon which he sat.

“You say you sold fifty books?”

“Yes.”

“Well; if you made fifteen dollars out of fifty, that is thirty cents apiece.”

Bobby was a little mortified when he perceived that he had unwittingly exposed the momentous secret.  He had not given Tom credit for so much sagacity as he had displayed in his inquiries; and as he had fairly reached his conclusion, he was willing he should have the benefit of it.

“You sold them at a dollar apiece.  Thirty from a hundred leaves seventy.  They cost you seventy cents each—­didn’t they?”

“Sixty-seven,” replied Bobby, yielding the point.

“Enough said, Bob; I am going into that business, any how.”

“I am willing.”

“Of course you are; suppose we go together,” suggested Tom, who had not used all this conciliation without having a purpose in view.

“We could do nothing together.”

“I should like to get out with you just once, only to see how it is done.”

“You can find out for yourself, as I did.”

“Don’t be mean, Bob.”

“Mean?  I am not mean.”

“I don’t say you are.  We have always been good friends, you know.”

Bobby did not know it; so he looked at the other with a smile which expressed all he meant to say.

“You hit me a smart dig the other day, I know; but I don’t mind that.  I was in the wrong then, and I am willing to own it,” continued Tom, with an appearance of humility.

This was an immense concession for Tom to make, and Bobby was duly affected by it.  Probably it was the first time the bully had ever owned he was in the wrong.

“The fact is, Bob, I always liked you; and you know I licked Ben Dowse for you.”

“That was two for yourself and one for me; besides, I didn’t want Ben thrashed.”

“But he deserved it.  Didn’t he tell the master you were whispering in school?”

“I was whispering; so he told the truth.”

“It was mean to blow on a fellow, though.”