“It’s my fault,” moaned Winans in mock grief, “to let one so young, so tender, so beautiful, stray into the clutches of a heartless woman.”
“Shut up, or I’ll throw you, hog-tie you and lock you in the closet,” threatened Larry, still trying to comb down a shock of rebellious red hair.
“Come on,” bantered Winans. “You can’t throw me again. You took unfair advantage last time”——
“Aw, you know I can’t wrestle with these clothes on,” protested Larry. “Wait until I get my ball things on.”
“Come on, I dare you,” taunted Winans. “I ought to tackle you and muss up your pretty hair anyhow.”
Larry refused to discuss the case, being absorbed in knotting a new and gorgeous tie.
“That’s no way to treat a pal,” pleaded Winans, changing his tone. “The idea of running off after a crinoline when you might stay here and have a nice comfortable game of chess with your old chum.”
Larry grinned and refused to be drawn into argument.
“I’ll have to get a divorce,” wailed Winans. “I’ll report that you have deserted me—and go room with Paw Lattiser. He’s more company, anyhow.”
But Larry remained obdurate and hastened away toward St. Gertrude’s, whistling as he went. The whole world seemed good to him then. He was early and so decided to walk over the hills to the girls’ school. Students in cap and gown or in flannels, strolling through the eucalyptus arcades, shouted greetings as he passed.