"Yes," Helen said, after a pause in which she seemed to her mother about to make a confidence. But she did not seem quite certain of herself and finally without any more words went up to her room.
Two days later Walter received his father's letter which he read with a sense of great rejoicing.
"Why, it's just like a story book! Dear old pater! He's the best ever!"
Then he took up the check and began to consider how he would present the matter to Bauer. No one knew better than himself how sensitive Bauer could be on occasion. But he was helpless, and under the circumstances, what else could he do but let his friends come to his assistance? If there was no other way he could probably be prevailed on to take the money as a loan and pay back when his royalties came due on the incubator sales.
He was going over the matter when Bauer came in from his room across the hall.
"How goes it?" asked Walter cheerfully.
"All right," said Bauer gravely. "I don't believe anything ails me.
Haven't had another since the last one."
"No? Well, what you want to do is to get right out to the painted desert. Why don't you start?"
"The walking is poor, and I never did enjoy the hot, dusty cars."
"Letters!" said one of the boys who roomed on the next floor. He opened the door as he spoke and threw Walter two letters and seeing Bauer, he said, "One for you!" threw it at him and went on.