Howard named the college town brusquely.
“Ah, indeed!” Another survey brief and significant this time. “I don’t suppose you know any people at the college.” It was scarcely a question, more like a statement of a deplorable fact. Howard was suddenly amused.
“Oh, a few,” he said briefly. (He was just finishing his senior year rather brilliantly and his professors were more than proud of him.)
Another glance seemed to say: “In what capacity?” but the elegant youth finally decided to voice another question:
“Don’t happen to know a fellah by the name of Cloud, I suppose? Al Cloud?”
“I’ve met him,” said Howard with his eyes still on his paper.
“He’s from my State!” announced the youth with a puff of importance. “We live next door in California. He’s a regular guy, he is. Got all kinds of money coming to him. He’ll be of age in a month or two now, and then you’ll see him start something! He’s some spender, he is.”
Howard made no comment, but something in him revolted at the idea of talking over his friend in such company.
“I’ve got to hunt him up,” went on the young man, not noticing that his auditor appeared uninterested. “I’m to stay with him to-night. I was to send a telegram, but didn’t think of it till it was almost train time. Guess it won’t make much difference. The Clouds always used to keep open house. I suppose they have a swell place out here?”