“But why did you refuse?”
“I had done nothing worthy of any special ovation,” evaded Dad.
“Modesty is supposed to be an excellent quality,” said he, “though for my own part I could never see any particular use for it. But false modesty is absurd. You know well enough the worth of what you did. Also, you are dodging the issue. That surely was not your reason for refusing a courtesy tendered you by your brother officers.”
“No, sir,” assented Dad simply. “It was not. I refused because—because there was certain to be more or less drinking. And—”
“And, as the guest of honor, you might have had to get very pleasantly drunk? Or are you a temperance devotee?”
“Neither, sir. I would probably have been foolish enough to drink. And then—all I have been striving for this past year would have gone for nothing. I was afraid. So I ran away from the danger.”
Hooker was eying him narrowly.
“You couldn’t trust yourself where drink was?”
“I don’t say that,” corrected Dad. “I only say it was safer for me not to. That’s why I refused.”