Charter I
THE WALLET
WO boys were driving along a wooded road. It was June, in the heart of Massachusetts, and even in the shade of the tall trees, the air was so warm that the lads had laid off their jackets, and were enjoying the comfort of their outing shirts.While the passenger talked, the driver listened. Silent though he was, his quick eye glanced constantly along the roadside, through the woods, or up and down the vista of the road. Yet from time to time his glance came back, inquiringly, to the lad at his side. At each glance, he appraised something in the other: the silk stockings, the patent-leather belt, the heavy gold fob, the fine texture of the shirt, or the handsome scarf-pin. All of these were in contrast to his own costume, which was plainer and simpler. At each glance, also, the driver swept his eye across the other’s face, noting afresh the narrow chin, the loose lips, the nose a little upturned, and the brown, self-satisfied, inattentive eyes.
The talker drew out a little silver case. “A cigarette, Pelham?”
“No, thanks,” said the other,
His companion, with a cigarette between his lips, looked at him sidewise, shrewdly. “Would n't you like to, though?”
Pelham laughed, but gave no other answer.
The other persisted: “Your father won't let you?” He began to light his cigarctte.
“He 'd scalp me,” answered Pelham, still smiling.
The other grew serious. “That ’s perfect tyranny” he declared. “And it ’s entirely out of date for fellows nowadays.”
“Hold on!” said Pelham. “He would n’t scalp me for smoking, but for breaking my promise.”
“Good heavens!” cried his companion. “Why should you promise such a thing?” But Pelham merely smiled, not even changing expression at the taunt, “Country!” He did, however, the next moment, quickly draw rein, stop the horse, and leap from the runabout. Going back for a few yards, he searched a moment by the side of the road, stamped vigorously, and then returned to the carriage.
The other looked at him in surprise. “Did you go back just to put out my match?”
“It needed it,” was the answer. “You 'd better learn right now, Brian, that you can’t do anything much more dangerous than that. When you throw away that cigarette, be sure to throw it in the middle of the road.”
“You say it 's dangerous?” asked Brian, incredulous.
“We have n't had rain for nearly a month,” explained Pelham. “It threatens to be another dry summer. The old leaves are as dry as tinder, and a fire might sweep for miles. That ’s one thing,” he added, “that a city fellow never considers.”
Brian reared his head as if his pride was touched. “We can't know everything,” he responded. “I suppose I ’d have been taught that in this little town where we 've been buying sup-37
