Dick looked rather taken aback.
"Oh—ah—that is—I say, you know, what's this shindy between you and Nell?" he said, with a somewhat uneasy grin.
"Shindy? What do you mean?" demanded Drake.
Dick began to look uncomfortable.
"I don't know anything about it," he said hesitatingly, "only what she told me. She was awfully upset this morning; red-eyed and white about the gills, and all I could understand was that it was 'all over' between you." He grinned again, but more uncomfortably. "Of course, I knew it was only a lovers' tiff—'make it up and kiss again,' don't you know."
His voice and the grin died away under the change in Drake's expressive countenance.
"What is the matter, anyway?" he demanded. "Is there a real quarrel?"
"I don't know what you are talking about," said Drake, speaking as a man speaks when a cold fear is beginning to creep about his heart.
"Well, I don't know myself," said Dick desperately. "Oh, I've got a letter for you somewhere—perhaps that will explain. Now, what did I do with it? Oh, I know! Wait a moment!"
He ran into the house, and Drake waited, mechanically stroking his horse's sweating neck.