“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Walter slowly. “When did you first see him?”
“When I came into our room after the Latin hour.”
“That was only a few minutes before I came,” replied Walter, feeling relieved.
“Yes. As far as I recall, Walter, he asked me only one question.”
“What was that?”
“He asked my opinion about Gus Kiggins.”
“What did you say?” inquired Walter, looking anxiously into his roommate’s face.
“Nothing that amounted to anything. I didn’t have to, even if I had wanted to, for he knew pretty much all about him. I would have just as good a right, Walter, to say that you told him about me as you have to say that I told, for he asked me about those ten marks Mr. Sharp gave me and he knew too, that I’d been on the ‘limits.’ Did you tell him, Walter?”
“Of course I didn’t. You know that as well as I do.” Walter’s voice was different now and there were traces of a smile about the corners of his mouth.