"Oh, I don't know," answered Kenneth embarrassedly. "I—I didn't like to, I suppose. When are you going?"
"This afternoon. That's why I came to see you now, I wanted to—to tell you that I was sorry about it and see if you wouldn't be friends."
"That's all right," said Kenneth. "I—I'm glad you came."
Had they been older they would have shaken hands. As it was they merely avoided looking at each other and maintained an embarrassed silence for a moment. It amounted to the same thing.
The silence was broken by a knock on the door.
"Come!" called Kenneth.
"Look at the heroes having a convention," said Joe gayly as he crossed the floor. "The Society of the Singed Cats! Well, how are you feeling, chum?"
"Fine and dandy," answered Kenneth.
"Good! Say, we had lots of fun last night! They bunked us in with the Upper House fellows, and maybe there wasn't a circus! Every time we see King we ask him if it's hot enough for him! I wouldn't be surprised if he folded his pyjamas like the Arabs—that's all he saved, you know—and as silently stole away. We've sure got him worried!" He paused and looked inquiringly from Kenneth to Grafton. "Did Graft tell you?" he asked.
Kenneth nodded.