“You can’t tell me anything about it,” Mauney laughed. “I got turned down on account of my eyes. But I only have to wear glasses when I read. Eyes are good. I’d have been away long ago except for that. It’s tough luck to get treated like that. However, I’m ready any time they want to take me. But, war or no war, Mr. Lee, I’m not going to beg them to take me. I practically did that once; so I feel it’s their move next.”
“Hear, hear! My heart’s in the right place, too. Though I hate to be regarded as a slacker by those who don’t know the details. Sometimes I think it takes as much grit to face the home forces as the Germans. I mean the why-aren’t-you-at-the-war brand. However, got to put up with it. Say,” he added presently. “How would you like to get a room at my boarding house?”
“Fine. Could I?”
“I believe you probably could,” he said, “It’s a queer sort of digs, but just unusual enough to be interesting. It’s worth making an effort to get into it, too. The bunch there are off the beaten path—never was quite able to size ’em up—but they all mind their own business. You know,” he said reflectively, “I’ve been there over a year and I can’t tell you just what keeps me there. I guess it’s because we’re all rebels.”
“Rebels?” repeated Mauney, in great surprise.
“Surely,” nodded Lee with a broad smile breaking over his face. “Do you know what it means to be out of love with life?”
“I—I should say I do. That’s me exactly.”
“I thought so, Mr. Bard,” replied Lee with an intimate little sparkle in his eye. “I judged you to have something of the same spirit about you. Well, it’s a kind of grouch that lurks under the surface, if you will. Anyhow, it’s easily recognized by anyone who is a rebel himself.”
Mauney’s blue eyes narrowed as he glanced at his new friend’s face.
“Are you a rebel, Mr. Lee?” he asked seriously.