“For all of me,” agreed Jonesie.
Followed a silence. Sparrow blinked at the falling rain and the dripping trees on the campus. Jonesie gazed speculatively at Sparrow. But the scrap, as brief as it had been, had in a measure relieved his feelings, and at the end of five minutes he asked:
“What do you know?”
Sparrow scowled and shrugged his shoulders again.
“I know you make me sick,” he answered ungraciously.
“You make me a heap sicker,” responded Jonesie. “Anyone been in?”
“No—yes, there was a fellow in here half an hour ago asking for you.”
“Who was he?”
“Search me.”
“What did he say?”