“Come to that? Of course it has; I shouldn’t have said so if it hadn’t,” replied the testy pin, who seemed unable to brook the slightest interruption. “He took a fit of blues after that; he went to the Board, and begged to be allowed to return to his studies, representing that all his prospects in life depended on his finishing his course there. They gave him one more chance. In his gratitude he resolved to discard his companions, and actually sat down and wrote a letter to Charlie, begging him to come and see him.”
“Did he really?” I exclaimed, trembling with eagerness.
“All right, I shall not tell you of it again. Stop me once more, and you’ll have to find the rest of my story out for yourself.”
“I’m very sorry,” said I.
“So you ought to be. When it came to the time, however, Tom’s resolutions failed him. Gus and his friends called as usual that evening and laughed him to scorn. He dare not quarrel with them, dare not resist them. He crumpled up the letter in his pocket and never posted it, and that night returned to his evil ways without a struggle.
“For a week or two, however, he kept up appearances at the hospital; but it could not last. A misdemeanour more serious than the former one caused his second expulsion, and this time with an intimation that under no circumstances would he be readmitted. That was three months ago. He became desperate, and at the same time the behaviour of Gus altered. Instead of flattering and humouring him, he became imperious and spiteful. And still further, he demanded to be repaid the money he had advanced to Tom. Tom paid what little he could, and borrowed the rest from Mortimer. He got behindhand with his rent, and his landlady has given him notice. As usual, everybody to whom he owes money has found out his altered circumstances, and is down on him. The keeper of the music-hall, the tailor, the cigar merchant, are among the most urgent.”
“And your being here is a result of all this, I see,” said I, knowing the story was at an end, and considering my tongue to be released.
“Find out!” angrily retorted the pin, relapsing into ill-tempered silence.
I had little enough inclination to revert to the sad topic, and for the rest of that day gave myself up to sorrow and pity for Tom Drift. One thing I felt pretty sure of—it would not be long before he came again; and I was right.
In two days he entered the office, wild and haggard as before, but with less care to conceal his visit.