CHAPTER XXIII
WHAT BILLY KNEW
Ronald and Billy had spoken but little, as they sped to the railway station, earlier on that afternoon.
“Rummy go,” volunteered Ronald, launching the tentative comment into the somewhat oppressive silence.
Billy made no rejoinder.
“Why did you insist on coming with me?” asked Ronald.
“I’m not coming with you,” replied Billy laconically.
“Where then, Billy? Why so tragic? Are you going to leap from London Bridge? Don’t do it Billy-boy! You never had a chance. You were merely a nice kid. I’m the chap who might be tragic; and see—I’m going to the bank to despatch the wherewithal for bringing the old boy back. Take example by my fortitude, Billy.”
Billy’s explosion, when it came, was so violent, so choice, and so unlike Billy, that Ronald relapsed into wondering silence.
But once in the train, locked into an empty first-class smoker, Billy turned a white face to his friend.