"Hey?" said Jack, in a great bewilderment. Was that really Curtis Park, whose rap on the door had announced him?
"Oh, it's no use to deny, Jack," said Curtis, speaking rapidly and desperately, "that I've been a cad—a mean, low cad—to talk to you in that way. It's done, and can't be helped now, only I want you to know what I think of it."
Jack swallowed hard. He was going to put out his hand, but luckily thought in time, This is Curtis Park.
"I don't wonder you won't shake hands with me," said Curtis, who saw the movement. "I'm no end sorry; and perhaps sometime, Jack, why, you will."
Jack's brown hand shot out so swiftly it nearly knocked the other boy from the doorstep.
"It's all right," he said heartily.
"And you will never have another chance to call me a cad, I promise you," declared Curtis, wringing it. "Come on now, Jack"—hooking him by the arm—"it's time to go to Mrs. Sterling's; this is the evening, you know."
And the boys who had begun to think they had made a mistake in supposing that Curtis Park had taken a fancy to Jack Parish, were pushed back into their first conviction by seeing them come into the meeting of the Comfort committee arm in arm.