But Tommy only quivered and shrank, as again a heavy hand was laid upon his shoulder. "Be a man," exhorted a gruff voice overhead. ("To be soft now would be damnation. It's the hammer he needs.") "Take it like a man—not like a whimpering bairn,"—and the speaker's grip tightened. "What? What d'ye say? Let you be? What for then did I bare my soul to you just now—do you think that cost me nothing? Up! Fight with it. Master it." Then more gently: "Would you have me ashamed of you, Tommy?"
"I—I—I'm ashamed of nothing," gasped the unfortunate youth, suddenly assuming a bravado he was far from feeling. "What have I to be ashamed of? I have never done anything, nor said anything——"
"Nor—thought—anything?"
Tommy's head fell upon his breast.
"Where were you going when I stopped you?" proceeded his mentor, sternly. "You know the road, I'm thinking. And it can't be all on one side. She may have led you on, but——"
"Not a word against her." Tommy started up, inflamed. "Say what you will of me; strike at me as you will; sneer and scoff——"
"Hoots!" said the doctor, shortly. This melodramatic attitude annoyed him.
"Aye, it's just 'hoots!'" he repeated, bringing his big, red face close to the pale and frenzied one before him, "and lucky for you it is. I'm not going to take offence, my man—and that's the long and the short of it. I know you've been bamboozled—I know it,"—bearing down interruption; "and you're still—all I've said goes for nothing, I suppose?" he broke off sharply.
Tommy, who had tried to speak, also stopped, and the two glared at each other.
But it was the younger who gave way first. "It does not go for nothing, Dr. Craig, and perhaps I ought to feel grateful to you, sir, and all that, for taking such a—a kind interest——"