Part 6 (1/2)
”We were talking about--similar cases a few days ago.”
”You were?” There was just a shade of pique in the tone. ”He must be a regular fount of wisdom. You're always quoting him.”
”He is,” tranquilly. ”By the way, with your permission, he's going to call with me to-morrow night.”
”With my permission!” The girl laughed. ”You've solicited, and received, that several times before--and without result. I'm almost beginning to doubt the gentleman's existence.”
”You won't much longer. I invited him and he accepted. He always does what he says he'll do.”
”Very well,” the voice was non-committal. ”I'm always glad to meet any of your friends.”
Armstrong warmed, as he always did when speaking of Darley Roberts.
”You will be when you know him, I'm sure. That's why I asked him to come.
He's an odd chap and slow to thaw, but there isn't another lawyer in town, not even in the department, who's got his brains.”
”They couldn't have, very well, could they?” evenly.
”I'll admit that was a trifle involved; but you know what I mean. He's what in an undergraduate they call a grind. The kind biographers describe as 'hewing forever to the line.' If we live and retain reasonably good health we'll hear of him some day.”
”And I repeat,” smilingly, ”I've heard of him a great deal already.”
Armstrong said nothing, which indicated mild irritation.
”Excuse me, Steve,” said the girl, contritely. ”I didn't mean to be sarcastic; that just slipped out. He has acted sort of queer, though, considering he's your room-mate and--I had that in mind. I am interested, however, really. Tell me about him.”
Armstrong glanced at his companion; his gaze returned to his patent leather pumps, which he inspected with absent-minded concentration.
”I have told you before, I guess, about all I know. He's a good deal of an enigma to me, even yet.”
”By the way, how did you happen to get acquainted with him, Steve?” From the manner spoken the question might or might not have been from genuine interest. ”You've never told me that.”
”Oh, it just happened, I guess. We were in the collegiate department together at first.” He laughed shortly. ”No, it didn't just happen either after all. I went more than half way--I recognize that now.”
The girl said nothing.
”Looking back,” continued the man, ”I see the reason, too. He fascinated me then, as he does yet. I've had comparatively an easy enough sort of life. I was brought up in town, where there was nothing particular for a boy to do, and when it came college time my father backed me completely.
Darley was the opposite exactly, and he interested me. He was unsocial; somehow that interested me more. I used to wonder why he was so when I first knew him; bit by bit I gathered his history and I wondered less.
He's had a rough-and-tumble time of it from a youngster up.” The voice halted suddenly, and the speaker looked at his companion equivocally.
”Still interested, are you, Elice? I don't want to be a bore.”
”Yes.”
”I'll give you the story then as I've patched it together from time to time. I suppose he had parents once; but as they never figured, I infer they died when he was young. He came from the tall meadows out West straight to the University here. How he got the educational ambition I haven't the remotest idea; somehow he got it and somehow he came. It must have been a rub to make it. He's mentioned times of working on a farm, of chopping ties in Missouri, of heaving coal in a bituminous mine in Iowa, of--I don't know what all. And still he was only a boy when I first saw him; a great, big, over-aged boy with a big chin and bigger hands. The peculiar part is that he wasn't awkward and never has been. Even when he first showed up here green the boys never made a mark of him.” Again the short expressive laugh. ”I think perhaps they were a bit afraid of him.”
”And he got right into the University?”
”Bless you, no; only tentatively. He had a lot of back work to make up at the academy. That didn't bother him apparently. He swallowed that and the regular course whole and cried for more.” Armstrong stretched lazily.