A rare smile came over Hopwood’s face. “There’s where I made my mistake,” he replied. “I forgot that I had it on.”
“Why do you wear it, Hopwood?” Scott asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Hopwood looked at him thoughtfully. “I’ll tell you some day. I’m not quite ready yet. What did Sewall think?” he asked shrewdly.
“He thought that I might have sent you on an errand or that Foster might have done something to you.”
An angry scowl spread over Hopwood’s brow. It was the first time Scott had ever seen such an expression there. “Foster will never do anything to me. If I did not have more sense than they think I have, it would be I who would do something to Foster.” It did not sound to Scott much like the speech of a half-wit.
“Well, you’d better go see Sewall now. It will relieve his mind.”
Hopwood started for the door without comment.
Scott had not expected him to go so suddenly and called after him, “I certainly appreciate what you tried to do for me, Hopwood, and I would like to see you to-morrow if you get a chance. I have not had any news since you left.”
It was pathetic to see how grateful Hopwood was for any appreciation. He stopped a moment in confusion. “I’ll be here,” he blurted with evident embarrassment and hurried out.
“He may be crazy,” Scott thought, “but if he is, it is a pity that there are not more crazy people in the world. If it were not for that iron hat I would not believe it for a minute.”