"Oh, of course, but——" Tom did not finish, and as Sam, after stamping his letter, arose, he did the same. "I wonder if we had better stay up for them."
"I think I'll go to bed."
"Sam!" and Tom looked sharply at his younger brother.
"Well, what's the use of staying up?"
"A whole lot of use, Sam Rover, and you know it. If I were you I wouldn't let Chester Waltham ride over me."
"Who says I am letting him ride over me?" retorted Sam; and now his manner showed that he was quite angry.
"I say so," answered Tom, bluntly. "If you have got half the sand in you that I always thought you had, you wouldn't stand for it. All of us know how matters were going on between you and Grace. Now to let this fellow step in, even if he is a young millionaire, is downright foolish. If you really care for Grace it's up to you to go in and take her."
"Yes, but suppose that she cares for Waltham and his money more than she cares for me?" asked Sam, hesitatingly.
"Do you think Grace is the kind of a girl to be caught by money, Sam?" and now, as the two were in a deserted part of the hallway, Tom took his brother by both arms and held him firmly.
"N—no, I—I can't say that exactly," faltered Sam. "But just the same, why does she favor him at all?"