“You—you don’t understand, Jimmy!” cried Tom.
Jimmy paid no attention.
“And then he said,” the remembrance increased the scowling lines on his forehead, “that he didn’t think I was of the rough and ready sort who could fight his own battles in the world!”
“But, Jimmy, suppose he did. That’s nothing!”
“Not to you, maybe, Tom! My uncle ordered me to return to Brownsville as though I were but a little kid. He said enough in five minutes to make me mad for five years!”
“It’s all a whopping big mistake!” protested Tom energetically. “Let me tell you——”
“Dick,” the pianist’s hand came down on the Rambler’s shoulder, “couldn’t understand why I refused to skip over to Texas with him; now he knows!”
Jimmy’s sensitive nature had been far more deeply touched than even his uncle had dreamed. He vehemently protested that he did not intend to be arrested by the Texas Rangers or any one else; that he would prove to Colonel Brookes Sylvester’s entire satisfaction his ability to get along in the world.
SILENTLY THE LADS OBSERVED THEM