That was a nasty little trap. With his years and worldly experience Peter should not have fallen into it; but all men are children when they are sick, heart sick or body sick, and Peter was a very sick man at that minute. He had been addressed in such a frank and casual manner. His own brain shot off at queer tangents and led him constantly into unexpected places. The narrow side lane that opened up came into view so suddenly that Peter, with the innocence of a four-year-old, turned with military precision at the suggestion and looked over the premises for the exact location of Linda. Eugene Snow had seen for himself the thing that Katy had told him he would see if he looked for it. Suddenly he held out his hand.
“As man to man, Morrison, in this instance,” he said in rather a hoarse, breathless voice, “don’t you think it would be a good idea for you and me to assert our manhood, to manage our own affairs, to select our own wives if need be? If we really set ourselves to the job don’t you believe we can work out our lives more to our liking than anyone else can plan for us? You get the idea, don’t you, Morrison?”
Peter was facing the kitchen sink but he did not see it. His brain was whirling. He did see Snow’s point of view. He did realize his position. But what Mr. Snow knew of his affairs he could only guess. The one thing Mr. Snow could not know was that Linda frankly admitted her prepossession for her school chum, Donald Whiting, but in any event if Peter could not have Linda he would much prefer occupying his dream house alone. So he caught at the straw held out to him with both hands.
“I get you,” he said tersely. “It is not quite up to the mark of the manhood we like to think we possess to let our lives be engineered by a high-school kid. Suppose we do just quietly and masterfully assert ourselves concerning our own affairs.”
“Suppose we do,” said Snow with finality.
Whereupon they shook hands with a grip that whitened their knuckles.
Then they went back to Lilac Valley and had their dinner together, and Linda and Peter escorted Eugene Snow to his train and started him on his return trip to San Francisco feeling very much better. Peter would not allow Linda to drive him home at night, so he left her after the Bear-cat had been safely placed in the garage. As she stood on the walk beside him, strongly outlined in the moonlight, Peter studied Linda whimsically. He said it half laughingly, but there was something to think about in what he said:
“I’m just picturing, Linda, what a nice old lady you will be by the time that High-School kid of yours spends four years in college, one on the continent, and the Lord knows how many at mastering a profession.”
Linda looked at him with widened eyes.
“Why, what are you talking about, Peter? Are you moonstruck?” she inquired solicitously. “Donald’s only a friend, you know. I love him because he is the nicest companion; but there is nothing for you to be silly about.”