These two had been David and Jonathan from their little boy days, no
less friends because they were so unlike; Marty, a quiet, brooding,
knowledge-hungry youngster, and J.W. matter-of-fact, taking things as
they came and asking few questions, but always the leader in games and
mischief; each the other's champion against all comers.

Marty's father, tenant-farmer on the Farwell farm, was steady enough and
dependable, but never one to get ahead much. Before the Farwells moved
to town he had rarely stayed on the same farm more than a year or two,
but, as he said, "J.W. Farwell was different, and anybody who wanted to
be decent could get along with him." So, for many Saturdays and
vacations of boyhood years J.W. and Marty had roamed the countryside,
and were letter-perfect in their boy-knowledge of the old farm.

Marty came in to high school from the farm, and often he stayed with
J.W. over the weekend. His school work was uneven--ahead in mathematics,
and the sciences, and something below the average in other studies.
That, however, has no place in this story.

Of course he and J.W. were thick as thieves. Except when class work made
temporary separations necessary, they lived the high-school life
together. That meant also, for these two, the social life of the church,
which occasionally paid special attention to the students.

So you might find them at Epworth League socials, Sunday school class
doings, in the Sunday school orchestra--violin and b-flat cornet
respectively--and, most significant of all in its effect on all the
later years, they went through Win-My-Chum week together. The hand of
the pastor was in that, too.