"I do, Bob. I'm dead sorry." "If you'd stay sorry it might do some good," returned Bob. A sudden thought seemed to strike him. He did not speak for a few moments; then he said half aloud: "Who knows--it might help." "What might help?" "Nothing." Bob got up and sauntered to the door. "Will you stay right here like a decent chap and not get into any more mischief until I get back?" "Where are you going?" "Nowhere much--just across the campus for a little while. I'll be back soon. Will you wait here exactly where you are?" "Yes, but--" "Honor bright?" "Sure!" "All right. Don't quit this room until I come. So long!" Bob was gone. Van lay very still after the door had closed, and to keep him company in his solitude back swarmed all those dreary thoughts that Bob's cheery presence had for the time being banished; with a rush they came to jeer, taunt, and terrify. The _little while_ lengthened into an hour and on into a second one. The room became intolerable. Then upon the stone floor of the corridor outside sounded Bob's foot. "Still here, Van?" he cried, coming in with elastic step and banging the door after him. His face was wreathed in smiles. "What's happened to you that you look like that?" questioned Van, sitting up among the pillows.