Walter shot a hard look at his apathetic sister, then turned to his father. "Make it to-morrow," he said. "This is Satad'y night and I got a date."
"No," Adams said, frowning. "You come up before you go out. It's important."
"All right; I've had all I want to eat," Walter returned. "I got a few minutes. Make it quick."
He followed his father upstairs, and when they were in the room together Adams shut the door, sat down, and began to rub his knees.
"Rheumatism?" the boy inquired, slyly. "That what you want to talk to me about?"
"No." But Adams did not go on; he seemed to be in difficulties for words, and Walter decided to help him.
"Hop ahead and spring it," he said. "Get it off your mind: I'll tell the world I should worry! You aren't goin' to bother me any, so why bother yourself? Alice hopped home and told you she saw me playin' around with some pretty gay-lookin' berries and you———"
"Alice?" his father said, obviously surprised. "It's nothing about Alice."
"Didn't she tell you———"
"I haven't talked with her all day."
