I was regaled in the dining-room as the guest of my American friend.
"Are you going to be in for the balance of the evening?" he asked, as I rose to leave him at the conclusion of our after-dinner smoke.
"Yes!"
"Good!" he ejaculated, rather abruptly.
And why he should have thought it "good," puzzled me not a little as I went up in the elevator.
CHAPTER VIII
Golden Crescent
I had been sitting in my room for two hours, reading, and once in a while, thinking over the strange adventures that had befallen me since I had started out from home some three short weeks before. I was trying to picture to myself how it had all gone in the old home; I was wondering if my father's heart had softened any to his absent son.
I reasoned whether, after all, I had done right in interfering between my brother Harry and his fiancee; but, when I thought of poor little Peggy Darrol and the righteous indignation and anger of her brother Jim, I felt, that if I had to go through all of it again, I would do as I had done already.