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Page:Stanwood Pier--Crashaw brothers.djvu/167

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“Tom would like to see you, Crashaw,” he said. “He’s in his room at the Upper.”

There Edward found Sheldon sitting inefficiently with a trunk half-packed and a muss of books, clothes, and athletic trophies on the floor and on the bed.

“I always hate to pack,” he said, with a doleful smile. “And this is worse than usual.”

“I’m pretty good at it,” said Edward. “Let me help.”

“No, thanks.” Sheldon spoke more briskly. “I’m the only fellow that can handle this mess. I’ll have lots of time when you and the others are in Study. I thought I might n’t see you again, Edward, and I wanted to say good-bye.”

“I’m awfully sorry you’re going, Tom.”

“So am I. Well, it’s my own fault. If I had n’t been such a stupid dolt! It was n’t altogether stupidity, either; that’s the worst of it.”

“You’ve been doing so many things,” Edward said consolingly.

“Yes, and letting everything slide that was