“I’m so glad!” she exclaimed, and repeated: “I’m so glad!”
“I don’t think,” added Barry, “that the brick-bat hurt him nearly as much as the fact that it came from the ranks of those whom he had befriended.”
“I know. They were cowards; ingrates! They had murder in their hearts. As for me I’m through with them—forever.”
The old blaze of indignation came into her eyes, and the ghost of a flame crept into her cheeks.
“I’m beginning to feel the same way about it,” replied Barry. “You know I can’t stand for what those fellows did to Farrar.”
Her mind turned to another phase of the catastrophe.
“Barry,” she asked, “does he know——” She paused, but he divined the question that was in her thought.
“I don’t believe,” he replied, “that he knows a thing. He was knocked insensible, and there isn’t anybody who would go and tell him such a thing—unless it might be——”
“Who?”