“I don’t care what he thinks,” said Jack, bitterly.
“All right,” replied Tidball calmly. “How about the others?”
Jack studied his hands in silence for a minute. Then he threw back his shoulders and got up.
“You’re mighty kind,” he said, “to want to take all this trouble on my account, and I’m awfully much obliged to you, but—if you don’t mind—I’d rather you didn’t say anything to anybody.”
Tidball frowned.
“Then you mean to run away?” he asked disappointedly.
“No, I’ll stay and—and fight! Let them think me a coward if they like; only some day I’ll show them I’m not!”
“That’s the stuff,” said the other approvingly. “I guess you’re making a mistake by not explaining, but—maybe you’ll change your mind. If you do, let me know.”
“Thanks,” answered Jack, “but I sha’n’t.” He took up his valise and holding it upside down emptied the contents on to the cot. “I wish you’d tell me one thing,” he said.
“All right.”