He packed his grip, and, with a hearty, silent handshake, he left the house.
I had felt very much astonished and mortified that Betty should have acted that way, and I went into the house to reason with her. To my surprise, she was in her room and the door was locked.
"I want to come in," I said.
"Keep on wanting!" she replied, angrily.
"B-but—" the door was suddenly thrown open, and Betty stood there with her eyes flashing.
"Don't 'but' me. You can hardly make both ends meet now, and your business is only just making a bare existence,"—I looked surprised—"yes, a bare existence; and here you jeopardize your future by endorsing the note of a friend without knowing the first thing about it! The thing I advise you to do is to begin to save up five hundred dollars to pay that note."
I laughed.
"Dawson," she said, "there are times when I don't know whether you're a fool or not. This is one of the times I'm sure you're one!" And, with that, she slammed the door in my face, and left me aghast.
Betty was still sulky the next day. She could not get over my having endorsed that note for Larry. I was disappointed in Betty. I didn't think she would have me throw down a pal. Besides, it had not cost me anything to endorse the note, when it was sure to be paid long before it matured. While trying to get Betty to be reasonable, the telephone bell rang and I said, "Go answer it, Betty."
"Better answer it yourself," she snapped, "perhaps it is some other friend who wants you to give him some money."