Again the skeleton hand of the man on the bed sought and pressed his. "Old chap, I'm real glad," the tired voice drawled. "You've found yourself at last. I always felt you would—sooner or later."
Nap's lips twitched a little. "Don't be too sure of that. Anyway it doesn't follow that I shall sit at home and practise the domestic virtues. I've got to wander a bit first and find my own level."
"Not yet, dear fellow. I'm wanting you myself."
"You!" The thin lips began to smile. "That's real magnanimous of you.
But—thanks all the same—I'm not taking any. You have the mater and
Bertie and Anne Carfax to bolster you up. I guess I'm not essential."
"And I guess you can do more for me than any one of them," Lucas made quiet reply. "P'r'aps you'll think me a selfish brute to say so, but I need you badly. You're like a stimulating drug to me. You pick me up when I'm down. There is no one can help me in the same way."
"You wouldn't get Capper to say 'Amen' to that," remarked Nap.
"Capper is no oracle out of his own sphere. Besides," there was almost a note of pleading in Lucas's voice, "I know what I want better than he can tell me."
"True, very true!" Nap was smiling somewhat grimly. "And doubtless your wish is law. But it doesn't follow that you always desire what is best for yourself. Hadn't you better consult the queen before you admit the wasp to the hive?"
"You're too fond of talking in parables, my son," protested Lucas, frowning slightly. "My intelligence won't stretch to it."
"We'll try another," said Nap imperturbably. "Do you think Anne Carfax would thank you for asking me to pull in the same boat? Do you think she would second that request? Because, if so, I beg to differ."