pear unaware of the curious, amused, slightly bored eyes that followed him from the white-flanneled worthies lolling upon the benches. He was glad when he reached the head of the narrow street that, according to Joe's directions, must be Clark.
At that moment one of Burnham's deliverytrucks seemed to be blocking the whole street. Beyond the automobile, however, he could glimpse two rows of small white houses all practically alike. They were dwellings of rather ancient vintage, each with a dinky front porch reached by four railed steps up from the sidewalk. Harold took a few paces down the street and then paused uncertainly. He wondered if even on this modest street he could secure accommodations fitting to his modest purse. Of the $485 saved from three Summers' sales of washing machines he had brought $200, leaving the rest in the Sanford bank for emergency use. His pocket also contained the $165 in commissions he had earned the past Summer, plus $200 of the $330 secured from Uncle Peter. For he had been forced to spend $130 for clothes, other supplies and a ticket from Sanford to Tate. Five hundred and sixty-five dollars to last him a whole year at college. No spendthrift's income that!
As he was debating, a brisk little feminine
