Part 17 (1/2)

Linklater, to his eternal credit, devoted the greater part of the five minutes to an abject apology for his baseness and ingrat.i.tude.

Pride--most invincible of all devils--was swept aside at last, and his broken words embarra.s.sed Pip considerably.

”All right, old man, you can dry up now,” he remarked nervously, as Linklater paused for breath. ”Let's drop the subject once and for all.

It's all over.”

”Is it? Pip, they say you won't be able to bowl next term.”

This possibility had not occurred to Pip, but if he felt any disappointment he displayed none.

”Yes,” he said, ”it's a pity. Never mind!”

”And it's all my fault, my fault!” Linklater held his head in his hands and groaned aloud.

”Your fault? Piffle, my dear man! What on earth had you to do with my falling off a bar? You were at the other end of the dormitory. The whole thing was an accident: it happened at a rather lucky time for you, that's all. You'd better cut now.”

Linklater rose to go, mightily comforted.

”I heard how you held out against Chilly, trying to keep him from coming--”

”Oh, hook it!” remarked the patient uneasily.

But Linklater lingered a moment. He wanted to say something.

”I'll--we'll look after the house till you come back, Pip,” he said awkwardly.

”Right. Back Maxwell up. He's a puker, Link.”

”Well, so long!”

”So long!”

Linklater reached the door, and turned.

”It's a rum world, Pip,” he said. ”If you hadn't tumbled off that bar at that precise moment I should have been sacked.”

”You would,” a.s.sented Pip.

Then, as the door closed upon his friend, he turned to the wall, and murmured with a contented chuckle,--

”That's why I did it, my son!”

CHAPTER VI

Petticoat Influence

”PIP!”