On Sunday Rodney had returned from church by way of River Street and the sight of Doolittle’s had reminded him that he had not yet kept his promise to Billings. So on Monday he slipped down the hill between Latin and English recitations to settle his indebtedness. Young Mr. Doolittle didn’t remember him until Rodney recalled the circumstances and informed him that he wanted to pay for the four ice-cream .  
“Oh, you were the fellow that played the trick on Watson, eh?” asked the clerk with a . “Say, maybe he wasn’t about it!”
 
“Was he? Well, he got them anyway.”
 
“Yes, he made believe he was going to pay for them himself, and then when he and his friends had drank ’em he said I was to charge ’em to you.”
 
[126]
 
“That’s all right. Forty cents, wasn’t it?”
 
“He’s all the time doing things like that,” continued the clerk grievedly. “Did I tell you about the time he got a bottle of liniment off the shelf and emptied it into the sarsaparilla tank when I wasn’t looking? Well, he did. And Deacon Whittier and Si Moon——”
 
“What?” laughed Rodney. “Who’d you say?”
 
“Si Moon; keeps the livery stable,” replied the other, puzzled by the boy’s amusement. “Know him?”
 
“No, but I’m going to start a list of names. You’ve got some corkers around here! What do they call Mr. Moon for short? Sirocer?”
 
“They call him Si,” replied the clerk with the of one who discovers that he has made a humorous remark and doesn’t know what it was. “Don’t know what you mean about Si Rocker.”
 
“Never mind. What happened to old Si-moon?”
 
“He was sick as a horse, he and the Deacon, too. And——”
 
“Perhaps it was horse liniment?” suggested Rodney gravely.
 
[127]
 
“No, ’twa’n’t, it was Hipplepot’s Embrocation. I know because I found the bottle behind the fountain there. ’Most half empty it was, too. Might have killed ’em!”
 
“How did you find out Watson did it?”
 
“Why, he’d been in here a while before, and I just naturally suspected him. And when I asked him he owned right up.”
 
“Well that was honest anyway, wasn’t it? He might have told a lie about it.”
 
“Watson wouldn’t,” said the clerk . “I’ll say that for him. He’s a terror, all right, but he owns up to things. I nearly lost my job that time, though.”
 
“Too bad. Well, here’s the money. Just cross off that bill, will you?” and Rodney laid a half dollar on the counter. The clerk looked at it doubtfully.
 
“What’s that for?” he asked.
 
“Why, to pay for those sodas.”
 
“Oh! They’re paid for. Thought you knew. Watson came down Saturday and paid for ’em.”
 
“He did!” Rodney stared and thoughtfully returned the money to his pocket. “I wonder what he did that for?”
 
[128]
 
“I don’t know. Said something about only being in fun the other time. I just took the money and was glad to get it. There’s lots of fellows up to school don’t pay up as well as he does.”
 
Hurrying back up the hill Rodney wondered why Watson had changed his mind, and debated whether to speak to him about it. He finally to let the matter drop. Whatever Watson’s might have been, Rodney had an idea that the older boy wouldn’t care to be thanked.
 
It was two days after that that Phineas Kittson startled the school and provided several days of amusement by announcing his candidacy for a position on the football team. Rodney learned of it first. He found Kitty frowning over a book of football rules that afternoon after practice. Kitty looked up as Rodney came into the room, nodded, and went back to his study. Rodney observed the blue covered book , until in a moment Kitty asked:
 
“Merrill, what do you mean when you say a ball is ‘dead’?”
 
[129]
 
“Why, that it isn’t—isn’t playable. Like when the fellow who has it is tackled, you know, or when it goes over the goal line.”
 
“Oh. Seems to me the person who wrote these rules tried to make them as difficult as possible. All mixed up, I call them. Silly.”
 
“Aren’t thinking of playing, are you?” asked Rodney smilingly.
 
Kitty turned down the corner of a leaf and nodded slowly. “Yes, I’ve decided that I’ll have to try,” he replied calmly. “Got more time this year. Reading in a paper yesterday that football is great developer of the lungs. Don’t see why it shouldn’t be, eh? Course, a fellow couldn’t rely on football alone. Have to take regular exercises, too. It follows. But in its way, don’t see why football wouldn’t be—er—beneficial. Would it seem so to you, Merrill?”
 
“Yes.” Rodney struggled to keep from laughing. “Yes, I’d say football might develop the lungs beautifully.”
 
“Shall try it. Been trying to get the sense of that.” He nodded at the rule book. “Guess you have to play the game to learn what it’s all about though. Complicated. .[130] Can’t make heads nor tails of it. What do you wear?”
 
“Oh, you wear canvas breeches and a canvas jacket thing that laces up the front. And a . And long stockings and shoes with cleats.”
 
“Cost much?”
 
“Mm, that depends. Twelve dollars will do it, I guess.”
 
“Buy them in the village?”
 
“I think so. Yes, Tad told me I could get most everything here. I forget what the name of the s............