But Dick said nothing, nor did he glance particularly at the sophomore.
That made it all the harder for Fred to find something to say.
The clock in the room ticked. Dick, to relieve the awkwardness
of the situation, strolled over to a window and stood looking out.
That, therefore, was the situation when Lawyer Ripley came back into the room.
"What a jovial, friendly pair!" railed the lawyer, who held a slip of paper in his hand, as he advanced toward the freshman.
"Prescott," declared the lawyer, "I can't tell you what is in my heart. I can't even pay you adequately for what you have done for me and for my boy. But I ask you to accept this as a slight indication, only, of what I feel."
Dick took the paper, glancing at it curiously. It was the lawyer's check for two hundred and fifty dollars.
"Accept it," begged the lawyer, in a rather pompous voice. "Do whatever you please with it."
Dick colored. "Whatever I please with it?" he asked, a bit unsteadily.
"Yes; certainly, of course," murmured the lawyer. "I have no doubt whatever that a live? healthy boy can find something to do with a check like that."
Flushing still more deeply, while Fred Ripley looked on, at first enviously, Dick Prescott tore the check into several pieces. The lawyer stared at him in amazement.
"I appreciate your intention, Mr. Ripley," Dick went on, his voice a bit husky, "and I thank you, sir. But I can't take any money."