The little owl-eyed bowed a solemn and somewhat puffed-up acknowledgment. But Shipman, with eyes enigmatic, turned upon the rest of the group, "I feel that to obtain a—er—certain solidarity, that my fee should come from all of you. Taxing each one of you a certain percentage per month would, of course, make a hole in your allowances——"
Instantly the curious derisive protest went up. The group had grown gradually less in awe of the great man. Now they openly rebelled while they were half agreed. Those whose murmurings were in earnest were smothered by their companions who bade them be "sports." At last someone stepped forward gracefully, offering his hand. It was the youth with the new blue car. Watts gripped his young paw with liking. The others then followed in rapid succession. "Good-bye, chocolate sundaes," said somebody with a groan. "Where do we get off, at the poorhouse?" asked another cub. "Farewell, my wrist-watch, good-bye, golf caddies; me for the lessening waistband," they giggled and shuffled and hooted their dismay, knowing well that what the man before them asked was no real hardship, yet making their reluctance very evident. Watts noted with wonder, however, that in this, as in everything else, they kept to their squad formation, one man having agreed, all agreed. Someone then suggested gruffly that it was time to depart. With awkward leave-taking and self-conscious thanks they finally took themselves away.
All but Sard, who hesitated in the lull occasioned by the departing group, again callow, vociferous, with a sense of restraint removed.
Shipman, an enigmatic expression on his face, turned to her and held out his hand. "Will you forgive me?"
The girl, wondering, hesitated, but Shipman, the fine cool hand once in his, did not let it go too quickly. "I have treated your friends pretty meanly," he said, "but I wanted to see if they really mean anything."
The girl returned his gaze; for the first time he saw challenge in the fine young eyes, and his own leaped to their full power.
"You saw?" asked Sard coolly.
Shipman threw back his head, but his laugh was not quite as assured as usual.
"You haven't forgiven me!" He pretended amusement.