"About all," was the low answer. "But I want you to know one thing more, Dave. When you went away to Europe I intended to keep my promise and make a man of myself. I got along all right at first, but one Saturday afternoon Link Merwell asked me to go to Rockville with him."
"Merwell!"
"Yes. I don't care for him much, yet he was very friendly and I said I'd go. We visited a place where they have a poolroom in the rear, and he urged me to play pool with him, and I did. Then he offered me a cigar, and finally he treated to liquor. I said I had stopped drinking, but he laughed at me and held a glass of strong stuff to my face and dared me to take it,—said I was a baby to refuse. And I took it,—and then I treated him, and we both took too much. I came back to school alone, for we got into a row when he spoke of you and said mean things about you. When I got to Oak Hall I might have gotten into more trouble, only Shadow Hamilton cared for me, as maybe you know. Merwell wasn't under the influence of liquor very much, but he had enough to be ugly, and he got into a row with Mr. Dale and came pretty near to being sent home. Then he had another row with the teacher and went off on his vacation. He somehow blamed Phil Lawrence, but Phil had nothing to do with it."
"Yes, Phil wrote to me about that last row," answered Dave. "But to come back to yourself, Gus." His face grew sober. "You've certainly had a hard time of it, and, somehow, I don't think you alone are to blame for all that has happened. I have no appetite for liquor, but I think I can understand something of what it means. But let me tell you one thing." Dave's voice grew intensely earnest. "It's all nonsense to say you are not going to reform—that you can't do it. You can reform if you'll only use your whole will power."
"But look at what I've tried already!" Plum's tone was utterly hopeless. "Oh, you don't know how I've fought against it! People who haven't any appetite for liquor don't know anything about it. It's like a snake around your neck strangling you!"
"Well, I wouldn't give up—not as long as I had any backbone left. Just make up your mind from this minute on that you won't touch another drop of any kind, no matter who offers it. Don't say to yourself, 'Oh, I'll take a little now and then, and let it go at that.' Break off clean and clear,—and keep away from all places where liquor is sold."
"Yes, but——" Plum's voice was as hopeless as before.
"No 'buts' about it, Gus. I want you to make a man of yourself. You can do it if you'll only try. Won't you try?—for your own sake—for my sake—for the honor of Oak Hall? Say yes, and then thrust liquor out of your mind forever—don't even let yourself think of it. Get interested in your studies, in skating, boating, gymnastics, baseball,—anything. Before you know it, you'll have a death grip on that habit and it will have to die."
"Do you really believe that, Dave?"
"I do. Why, look at it—some men right down in the gutter have reformed, and they didn't possess any more backbone than you. All you want to do is to exert your will power. Fight the thing just as you used to fight me and some of the other fellows, and let that fight be one to a finish. Now, come, what do you say?"