“Thompson? Again? What’s he done now?” And Dan’s gaze examined Gerald’s face anxiously for evidences of recent encounters.
“He hasn’t done anything,” muttered Gerald.
“Then what—”
So Gerald told his trouble, and Dan laughed until it hurt. And after a while Gerald managed to smile, too.
“But I don’t see how that makes us quits, Dan,” he said seriously. “He snowballed me all across the Yard, and then I ran in and rescued him from some big chap who was making him prisoner. I don’t see that he’s done anything to make it quits, do you?”
“No, I can’t say I do,” laughed Dan. “But it’s funny, just the same, the cheek of it. Thompson must have a keen sense of humor, Gerald.”
“He had no business to hit me on the back and say we were quits,” said Gerald stubbornly.
“Well, he did it; apologized, too. You can’t fight a chap for that, Gerald, I guess.”
“No, I don’t suppose so.” Gerald was silent a moment. Then: “But I’m going to keep on learning to box, Dan, just the same,” he declared.
“Well, there’s no harm in that,” replied Dan, getting out of his wet clothes. “It’s a good thing to know, boxing.”