ough, wondering how he had had the strength to answer.

"Look out, you're treading on my toes," said the Gutter Pup next him.

He mumbled something and his teeth closed over his tongue in the
effort to bring the sharp sense of pain. He went to his box; the
letter was there. He went to his room and laid it on the table, going
to the window and staring out. Then he sat down heavily, rested his
head in his hands and read:

DEAR JACK: I'm writing to you among the first, for I want you
particularly to know how happy I am. Mr. Ver Plank----

He put the letter down; indeed, he could not see to read any further.
There was nothing more to read--nothing mattered. It was all over, the
light was gone, everything was topsy-turvy. He could not
understand--but it was over--all over. There was nothing left.

Some time later the Tennessee Shad came loping down the hall, tried
the door and, finding it locked, called out:

"What the deuce--open up!"

Dink, in terror, rose from the table where he had remained motionless.
He caught up the letter and hastily stuffed it in his desk, saying
gruffly:

"In a moment."

Then he dabbed a sponge over his face, pressed his hands to his
temples and, steadying himself, unlocked the door.

"For the love of Mike!" said the indignant Tennessee Shad, and then,
catching sight of Dink, stopped. "Dink, what is the matter?"

"It's--it's my mother," said Dink desperately.

"She's not dead?"

"No--no----" said Dink, now free to suffocate, "not yet."

XXV

This providential appearance of his mother mercifully allowed Dink an
opportunity to suffer without fear of disgrace in the eyes of the
unemotional Tennessee Shad.

That very night, as soon as the Shad had departed in search of
Beekstein's guiding mathematical hand, Dink sat down heroically to
frame his letter of congratulations. He would show her that, though
she looked upon him as a boy, there was in him the courage that never
cries out. She had played with him, but at least she should look back
with admiration.

"Dear Miss McCarty," he wrote--that much he owed to his own dignity,
and that should be his only reproach. The rest should be in the tone
of levity, the smile that shows no ache.

DEAR MISS MCCARTY: Of course, it was no surprise to me. I saw it
coming long ago. Mr. Ver Plank seems to me a most estimable young
man. You will be very congenial, I am sure, and very happy. Thank
you for letting me know among the