“You’re a brick, March!  I was just wishing you roomed near enough so that I could ask you to come over and talk a bit.  Isn’t it a horrible day?”

“It’s awfully wet; but then it has to rain sometimes, I suppose,” answered Joel as he took off his overcoat.

“Yes, but it doesn’t have to rain just when a fellow has fixed to practice golf, does it?” West growled.  Joel laughed.

“I thought the real, simon-pure golfer didn’t mind the weather.”

“He doesn’t as long as he can get over the ground, but the links here is like a quagmire when it rains.  But never mind, we’ll have a good chummy afternoon.  And I’ve got some bully gingersnaps.  Do you like gingersnaps?” Joel replied in the affirmative, and West produced a box of them from under the bed.

“I have to keep these kinds of things hid, you know, because Blair and Cooke and the rest of the fellows would eat them all up.  By the way, I made up a list of the things you’ll have to get if you’re going in for golf.  Here it is.  Of course, I only put down one of each, and only a dozen balls.  I’ll get the catalogue and we’ll reckon up and see how much they come to.”

“But I don’t think I can afford to buy anything like this, West,” answered Joel doubtfully.

“Nonsense! you’ve got to!  A fellow has to have necessities!  What’s the first thing on the list?  Read ’em off, will you?”

“Driving cleek,” read Joel.

“Yes, but never mind the clubs.  There are seven of them on the list and you can get pretty fair ones for a dollar and a half each.  What’s next?”

“But that makes ten dollars and a half,” cried Joel.

“Of course it does.  And cheap enough, too.  Why, some of mine cost three dollars apiece!  What’s next?”

“One dozen Silvertowns.”

“Correct; four dollars.  Mark it down.  Next?”

“Caddie bag,” responded Joel faintly.

“A dollar and a half.  Next.”

“But, West, I can’t afford these things.”

“Nonsense, March!  Still—­well, you can call the bag a dollar even; though the dollar ones aren’t worth much.  Mine cost five.”

“But you have coat and trousers down.  And shoes, and—­”

“Well, you can leave the shoes out, and get some hobnails and put them on the soles of any good heavy shoes.  Then there’s gloves.  They cost about a dollar and a half.  As for trousers, you can do with ordinary ones, but—­you’ve got to have a coat, March.  A chap can’t swing a club in a tight-fitting jacket like the one you’ve got on.  Now let’s reckon up.”

“There’s no use in doing that, West,” laughed Joel.  “I can’t buy one of these things, to say nothing of the whole list.  I’m saving up for my football togs, and after I have those I sha’n’t be able to buy anything else for months.”

West settled his chin in his hand and scowled at the flames.  “It’s too bad, March; and I put your name up for the Golf Club, too.  You will join that, won’t you?  You must, now that I’ve put you up.  It’s only a dollar initiation fee and fifty cents dues.”