"No." Matt swallowed cautiously. "Let's not talk about it. Where were you last night, Tex? I looked for you a couple of times, but your roommate said he hadn't seen you since dinner."
"Oh, that-'' Tex looked pained. "I was in Mr. Dynkowski's room. Say, Matt, that was a bum steer you gave me."
"Huh? What steer?"
"You know-when you advised me to ask Mr. Dynkowski to put an order in writing if I was in doubt about it. Man, oh man, did you get me in a jam!" .
"Wait a minute-I didn't advise you to do that; I just pointed out that the regs let you do it if you wanted to."
"Just the same, you were egging me on."
"The deuce I was! My interest was purely theoretical. You were a free agent."
"Oh, well-skip it. Skip it."
"What happened?"
"Well, last night at dinner I ordered pie for dessert. I picked it up, just like I always have ever since I got too big for Ma to slap my hands for it, and started shoveling it in my face, happy as a pup in a pansy bed. Ski ordered me to cease and desist-told me to use my fork."