“Come at midnight and you’ll find him. He’s here to sleep.”
Bruce looked thoughtfully at Archer. “He ought to stay at home more,” he said, after a slight pause. “He won’t do any work, knocking about from room to room.”
Archer gave an impatient jerk of his shoulders. “It’s none of my business what he does. I think he goes away to avoid me.”
“Why should he?”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t like me, I suppose.”
“He and Don used to fight like cat and dog, but they always stuck to the nest,” Bruce mused. “What have you done to him?”
“Nothing. He just doesn’t like me. You can’t blame him for that.”
Bruce had been talking with Collins that morning, and the trainer had spoken a good word for the long-legged recruit to the hurdling force, not on account of what he could do, but because of the spirit he showed. Bruce was fond of whimsical Duncan. He was well disposed, also, to the recruit.
“Didn’t you throw him out of his room?”
Sam flushed uneasily. “Yes, and I offered to give it back to him. He said it wasn’t worth the trouble of changing.”