On the seat
Of a bicycle built for two.'
He turned on Henry with a wrinkly, comfortable grin.
'Well, my boy, it's too late for Stanley's but what do you say to a bite at Ericson's, over by the tracks?'
Then he became fully aware of the woebegone look of the boy, fiddling eternally with that moustache, fingering the leaves of his little book, and added:—
'What on earth is the matter with you!'
Henry gazed long at his book, swallowed, and said weakly:—
'I'm in trouble, Humphrey.'
'Oh, come, not so bad as all—'
He was silenced by the sudden plaintive appeal on Henry's face. Mr Boice, a huge-slow-moving figure of a man with great white whiskers, was coming in from the press room.