“Why, yes, I guess so,” answered Dan. “I found it on the table!”
“Well, I don’t lend my books,” growled Tubby.
“Oh!” Dan looked at him rather blankly and then at the stranger. The latter was grinning as though in appreciation of his friend’s discourtesy, but tried to straighten his mouth when Dan looked at him.
“Sorry,” said Dan. “I didn’t think you’d mind.” He got up and put the book back in its place. “I don’t think I’ve hurt it,” he added dryly.
“Well, if you’d asked me—” began Tubby a trifle more graciously.
“You weren’t here, you see,” said Dan. He picked up Tubby’s cap, which the latter had just tossed on the desk, and placed it on top of the row of books.
“What’s that for?” asked Tubby suspiciously.
“This is my side of the table,” answered Dan quietly, “and I don’t like things put on it.”
Tubby scowled angrily and muttered to himself. Then he took up the cap and tossed it onto a hook in his closet, closing the door with a vindictive slam. The stranger had seated himself on the edge of Tubby’s bed and was grinning like a catfish; the expression is Dan’s, not mine. The possibility of a quarrel between the room-mates seemed to fill him with the most pleasant anticipations. But, as before, when he caught Dan’s gaze on him he strove to dissemble his enjoyment. Perhaps Dan’s glance had in it something of the instinctive dislike which he felt for the other, for the stranger seemed a little embarrassed and turned to Tubby.
“I say, Tubby, you might introduce me, you know,” he challenged.