ce," Carl replied, his voice sharp with
scorn. "You see, I'm a bad egg. I drink and gamble and pet. I haven't
gone the limit yet on--on account of my old lady--but I will."

Hugh was relieved. He had wondered more than once during the past week
"just how far Carl had gone." Several times Carl had suggested by sly
innuendos that there wasn't anything that he hadn't done, and Hugh had
felt a slight disapproval--and considerable envy. His own standards were
very high, very strict, but he was ashamed to reveal them.

"I've never gone the limit either," he confessed shyly.

Carl threw back his head and laughed. "You poor fish; don't you suppose
I know that?" he exclaimed.

"How did you know?" Hugh demanded indignantly. "I might've. Why, I was
out with a girl just before I left home and--"

"You kissed her," Carl concluded for him. "I don't know how I knew, but
I did. You're just kinda pure; that's all. I'm not pure at all; I'm just
a little afraid--and I keep thinkin' of my old lady. I've started to
several times, but I've always thought of her and quit."

He sat silent for a minute or two and then continued more gently. "My
old lady never came to Kane. She never will come here, either. She wants
to give me a real chance. See? She knows she isn't a lady--but--but, oh,
God, Hugh, she's white, white as hell. I guess I think more of her than
all the rest of the world put together. That's why I write to her every
night. She writes to me every day, too. The letters have mistakes in
them, but--but they keep me straight. That is, they have so far. I know,
though, that some night I'll be out with a bag and get too much liquor
in me--and then good-by, virginity."

"You're crazy, Carl. You know you won't." Carl rose from the chair and
stretched hugely. "You're a good egg, Hugh," he said in the midst of a
yawn, "but you're a damn fool."

Hugh started. That was just what he had said to Morse.

* * * * *

He never caught Carl in a confidential mood again. The next morning he
was his old flippant self, swearing because he had to study his Latin,
which wasn't "of any damned use to anybody."

In the following weeks Hugh religiously clung to Morse, helped him with
his work, went to the movies with him, inveigled him into going on
several long walks. Morse was more cheerful and almost pathetically
grateful. One day, however, Hugh found an unstamped letter on the
floor. He opened it wonderingly.