"Yes, I suppose that's what they call it."
"The night he—he died?"
"Yes."
"Mac," Benjamin Crane looked grave, "suppose you tell me just what happened that night."
"Well,—we'd all been to the Club to dinner, you know."
"Yes."
"And when we went home, Bob Knight went with us. He was irritating, somehow,—said he heard Blair and I had combined on our work——"
"Why was that annoying?"
"Oh, it implied that Gilbert and I took each other's ideas, or something,— I don't know,—anyway, he stirred us up, and when he went off, Gil and I were touchy. We had some words, and Blair tore up his sketches, a-and—tore up some of mine, too."
"He did! No wonder you were annoyed."