Miss Harrison turned and looked full at him. The others were watching the little tragedy that was being enacted before them.
“Won’t you believe me—I’ll—I’ll explain—some time,” faltered Sid desperately.
“I’m sorry, but unless you care to tell me everything, and explain why you were in a gambling house I can’t accept your excuses,” she said coldly. “I cannot retain the friendship of a person who goes to gambling places. I must ask you to excuse me,” and holding her head high, though there were tears in her blue eyes, and a sob in her trembling voice, she turned and left the room.
Ruth and Madge looked at each other.
“Come on,” said Phil to Tom huskily, and they filed out. Sid remained long enough to pick up the envelope that had contained the accusing clipping, and then he followed. None of the three chums spoke until they were out on the campus. Then Phil turned to Sid and demanded:
“What in blazes is the matter? If that didn’t mean you, and you weren’t there, why didn’t you say so?”
“I—I can’t,” was the answer. “Oh, fellows, don’t go back on me now. I’ll explain—some time.”
“Of course we won’t go back on you,” declared Tom. “Even if you were playing the ponies or shuffling a deck of cards, it doesn’t matter to us. It’s your money to lose, if you want to, only I didn’t think you cared for such things.”
“I—I don’t!” blurted out Sid.
“Then why don’t you——”