were not always harmonious.

Blair was methodical, liked his drawing implements and sketches kept in
order, and the rooms tidy. Thorpe was not particular in these respects,
and his belongings were always scattered about not only on his own
tables or desk, but on Blair's. Moreover, he did not hesitate to use his
chum's materials if his own were not immediately available.

So it happened that when Shelby stopped in on his way home from the
Cranes' he found a mild war of words in progress.

"You know, old dear," Thorpe was saying, "you'd be quite welcome to use
my drawing paper, and I call it rough of you to kick because I took a
couple of sheets of yours."

"Couple of sheets!" exclaimed Blair, "you took six or eight, and I had
only about enough to complete this series of sketches. You know how I
hate to use paper that doesn't match----"

"At it again?" said Shelby, coming in. "You two never have an out and
out row, but you're always bickering. Thorpe, you ought to mend your
ways--it is a confounded nuisance to have other people using your
things."

"Oh, Blair's an old granny. It does him good to get stirred up once in a
while. That paper of his----"

"I know," said Shelby, quietly, "it's a special paper that he bought for
his prize drawings--it's not only expensive, but he wants the sheets
uniform. You knew this, Thorpe, and yet you grab it and use it for your
trial sketches."

"Now, now, Kit," and Blair smiled good-naturedly, "you needn't take up
my quarrel. I'm jumping on Thorpe myself."

"You jumping! You'd lie down and let him walk over you!"

"Not much, he wouldn't!" Thorpe growled; "he's been ballyragging me for
half an hour! Not only about the paper, but he----"

"Let up, Thorpe," Blair spoke angrily, "at least let's keep our
skeletons in our closet!"

"Oh, is there a real row on?" Shelby inquired.

"No, no," Blair declared, but Thorpe jumped up, and, going into his
bedroom, closed the door behind him.

"Drop it," commanded Blair, quietly, and Shelby changed the subject.

"Mr. Crane says you had an old letter from Joshua," he began, "let's see
it, will you?"

"Sure, if I can find it," and Blair began rummaging in his desk.
"Confound it, Kit, if Thorpe hasn't been poking in here among my
letters!"

"I wouldn't stand for it, Gilbert. What would he do that for?"

"Hush," with a glance toward Thorpe's closed door, "never mind now. But,
anyway, I can't find that letter. What do you want it for?"