Routt seemed pleased. He thrust out his hand. “I’m darned glad, Wint,” he said. “Congratulations! You ought to leave it alone. You’re right.”
Wint flushed angrily. “I haven’t sworn off,” he said shortly. “It—just happens—” He stared at Routt. “You didn’t bring me up here to ask that?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
Routt shifted in his chair and lighted a cigarette. “Never mind,” he said. “Forget it, Wint.”
Wint laughed unpleasantly. “Come on. I’m a grown man. What’s eating you?”
Routt lifted his shoulders. “Well—fact is, some of the boys wanted to get up a little supper to-night, at the lodge rooms, in honor of your—inaugural. I told them nothing doing. Said you were off the stuff. They didn’t believe it; and I promised to ask you.”
Wint looked at him angrily. “You’re not my wet nurse, Jack. That supper idea tickles me. It’s on.”
Routt protested. “No, Wint. I won’t stand for it. You’ve stayed off the stuff this long; and it’s the best thing for you. You can’t stop when you once start. So—leave it alone.”
Wint got up hotly. “Go to the devil!” he snapped. “Don’t be an old woman. Who’s running the thing?”