Page:Glitter (1926).pdf/152

secret; to tell it would be to betray a sacred confidence and to cast shadow on Brad's blameless memory. De mortuis nil nist bonum. The papers had said, "Despondency over financial matters." That was nearly enough true. Let it go. He kept Brad's letter locked away, and now and then when he was alone he took it out and read it over . . .

In the beginning he was grateful to his fraternity brothers because they left him alone when he most wanted to be alone. Later, he became a little worried. It seemed to him that there were undertones to their attitude . . . manifest in the sharp stop of conversation when he came unannounced into a room, in eyes that dropped when he looked at them steadily. . . . This grew more marked as time went on, until finally, one day a month after Brad's funeral, he was moved to ask his roommate about it.

"What's wrong with the boys?"

"What do you mean, what's wrong with 'em?"

"Giving me the high hat——"

"No, they're not!" Bones said vehemently—so vehemently that Jock's suspicions were confirmed. "They are not. Why, why the devil should they? They've simply got the idea that you feel too bad to be bothered for awhile. What do you want, anyway? You don't want them mauling you over all the time, telling you how sorry they are, do you?"

Jock smiled wearily. "Be yourself, Bones. You're talking applesauce. I know there's something up—now what is it?"