“It does,” was the reply. “Now, if you had taken my advice——”
“Don’t preach,” Frank broke in. “Anyhow, there is no use crying over spilt milk. I shall have to take my medicine. What do you suppose Lord Hastings will do with me?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea. But say,” and Jack grew enthusiastic, “that was some scrap you put up. I didn’t know you were a fighter. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I only did my best,” replied Frank modestly. “I thought he had me two or three times.”
“I was afraid so, too. But, if he had beaten you, I would have given him a good licking myself.”
“What? How about the advice you gave me?”
“Well, that’s different,” said Jack, in some confusion.
“I see it is. Now, under the same circumstances, you would have done just as I did, wouldn’t you?”
Jack smiled somewhat sheepishly.
“I guess I should,” was his reply.