"
"You could never tell what it was," Bob replied, falling in with his
friend's mood. "I suppose the only way to make sure would be to do
whatever came to you the best way you could do it. You never could
be sure that what you were doing was not the great thing."
"Not studying and stuff like that."
"It might be; or at least studying might lead to it."
"I don't believe it."
"It wouldn't hurt you to try it."
"No, I suppose not." Then with characteristic caprice Van shifted
the subject. "But seriously, Bobbie, there is something I am going
to do. You'll howl, I guess, and maybe you'll be disappointed, too.
It's about that sick kid, Tim McGrew. The surgeon says the little beggar
will never walk again. I feel pretty sore about it; I suppose
because I was there," explained Van uneasily. "I've about decided to
chip in the money Father was going to send me for a canoe and get a
wheel chair for him. His folks are poor, and can't get one, and the
doctor says--"
"You're a--"
"Oh, shut up, can't you, Bobbie? It's only because I'm so cut up
about the accident. Remember, it might have been me instead of him.
You won't mind much if we don't have the canoe, will you?"
"No," was the low answer.
Neither of the boys spoke for some time.
Then Bob whispered:
"Have you thought, Van, that maybe the thing you are to do is
something for that little lame boy, Tim McGrew?"
CHAPTER X
HOW VAN BORE HIS PUNISHMENT
The spring term passed much faster than either Bob or Van dreamed it
would and despite the absence of athletics Van Blake found plenty to
do to fill the gap left by this customary activity.
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