vas that when he told Carl about Slade’s talk, Carl seemed to understand perfectly, though he never Dft'ered a satisfactory explanation.
“I know how he feels,” Carl said, “and I’m iwfully glad he butted in and pulled you away. [’d hate to see you messing around with bags like
- hat myself, and if I had n’t been drunk I would n’t
lave let you. I’m more grateful to him than you ire. Gee! I’d never have forgiven myself,” he included fervently.
Just when the incident was beginning to occupy
ess of Hugh’s thoughts, it was suddenly brought
lack with a crash. He came home from the gymlasium one afternoon to find Carl seated at his
lesk writing. He looked up when Hugh came in,
ore the paper into fragments, and tossed them into
he waste-basket.
“Guess I’d better tell you,” he said briefly. “I
vas just writing a note to you.”
“Tome? Why?”
Carl pointed to his suit-case standing by the
- enter-table.
“That’s why.”
“Going away on a party?”
“My trunk left an hour ago. I’m going away or good.” Carl’s voice was husky, and he spoke pith an obvious effort.
Hugh walked quickly to the desk. “Why, old