There was a short silence, then Dick laid his arms across his friend’s shoulders, quite in the old friendly way.
“Now may we drop that subject and be good pals again?”
“Not yet,” Ellery said sharply. “We won’t drop it till I’ve had one more say. Dick, don’t be knocked out by a single blow. You! Why, I thought you had a grip like a bulldog. I can’t believe even in this ugly mess. Still less will I believe that you haven’t the courage—that you aren’t man enough to own your defeat, and then go on as though you hadn’t been beaten.”
Dick poked at the andirons with his toe. Suddenly he looked up with a flash of his old brilliance and buoyancy.
“Suppose I do!” he exclaimed. “What a fellow you are, Ellery, to stick to me this way! But don’t underestimate my difficulty. I’m not an absolute coward, but I’ve been beaten not only once, but on both flanks and in the middle. Everything in life seemed to be giving me a kick. I was at the bottom when you came in, but if you believe in me, perhaps I’ll begin to believe in myself again. You’ve always been telling me how much I did for you. You’ve done more for me to-night than I ever dreamed of doing for you.”
Ellery’s face cleared. They stood with clasped hands, and there seemed no need of further explanations or assurances. Norris drew a long breath of relief.
“So we are friends still?” asked Dick.
“Till the Judgment Day and beyond.”
“Now good-by,” said Dick, as though anxious to get rid of him, “till to-morrow.”
“Till to-morrow.”