“Now, old man,” Bruce interrupted, laying his hand on Shep’s shoulder, “let’s not talk of ancient history.”
Shep shook his head impatiently.
“No, by George! You’ve got to take my thanks! It was bully of you to punch that scoundrel’s head. I ought to have done it myself, but——” He held out his arms, his eyes measuring his height against Bruce’s tall frame, and grinned ruefully.
“I didn’t give you a chance, Shep,” said Bruce, drawing himself onto the table and swinging his legs at ease. “I don’t believe that bird’s been looking for me; I’ve been right here in town.”
“I guess he won’t bother you much!” exclaimed Shep with boyish pride in his champion’s prowess. “You certainly gave him a good one!”
“He seemed to want it,” replied Bruce. “I couldn’t just kiss him after he slapped me!”
“I told Connie! I didn’t care for what Walters said—you understand—but I wanted Connie to know what you did—for her!”
His eyes appealed for Bruce’s understanding. But Bruce, who had hoped that Shep wouldn’t tell Connie, now wished heartily that Shep would drop the matter.
“You made too much of it! It wasn’t really for anyone in particular that I gave Walters that little tap—it was to assert a general principle of human conduct.”
“We’ll never forget it,” declared Shep, not to be thwarted in his expression of gratitude. “That anyone should speak of Connie—Connie—in that fashion! Why, Connie’s the noblest girl in the world! You know that, the whole world knows it!”