Ted's grin faded.
"You know why I came, old man. You know I'd let you pommel my head off any time if it could help you anyhow. Besides it was my fault as I told you. I didn't mean to be mean. I'll do any penance you say."
Larry picked up the paddle.
"Your penance is to let me absolutely alone for fifteen minutes. You had better go ashore though. You will miss a lot of dances."
"Hang the dances! I'm staying."
Ted settled down among the cushions against which Ruth's blonde head had nestled a few hours ago. He took out his watch, struck a match, looked at the time, lit a cigarette with the same match, replaced the watch and relapsed into silence.
The canoe shot down the lake impelled by long, fierce strokes. Larry was working off the demon. Far away the rhythmic beat of dance music reached them faintly. Now and then a fish leaped and splashed or a bull frog bellowed his hoarse "Better go home" into the silence. Otherwise there was no sound save the steady ripple of the water under the canoe.
Presently Ted finished his cigarette, sent its still ruddy remains flashing off into the lake where it fell with a soft hiss, took out his watch again, lit another match, considered the time, subtracted gravely, looked up and announced "Time's up, Larry."
Larry laid down the paddle and a slow reluctant smile played around the corners of his mouth, though there was sharp distress still in his eyes. He loathed losing his temper like that. It sickened him, filled him with spiritual nausea, a profound disgust for himself and his mastering weakness.
"I've been a fool, kid," he admitted. "I'm all right now. You were a trump to stand by me. I appreciate it."