"We were talking about--similar cases a few days ago."

"You were?" There was just a shade of pique in the tone. "He must be a regular fount of wisdom. You're always quoting him."

"He is," tranquilly. "By the way, with your permission, he's going to call with me to-morrow night."

"With my permission!" The girl laughed. "You've solicited, and received, that several times before--and without result. I'm almost beginning to doubt the gentleman's existence."

"You won't much longer. I invited him and he accepted. He always does what he says he'll do."

"Very well," the voice was non-committal. "I'm always glad to meet any of your friends."

Armstrong warmed, as he always did when speaking of Darley Roberts.

"You will be when you know him, I'm sure. That's why I asked him to come.

He's an odd chap and slow to thaw, but there isn't another lawyer in town, not even in the department, who's got his brains."

"They couldn't have, very well, could they?" evenly.

"I'll admit that was a trifle involved; but you know what I mean. He's what in an undergraduate they call a grind. The kind biographers describe as 'hewing forever to the line.' If we live and retain reasonably good health we'll hear of him some day."

"And I repeat," smilingly, "I've heard of him a great deal already."

Armstrong said nothing, which indicated mild irritation.

"Excuse me, Steve," said the girl, contritely. "I didn't mean to be sarcastic; that just slipped out. He has acted sort of queer, though, considering he's your room-mate and--I had that in mind. I am interested, however, really. Tell me about him."

Armstrong glanced at his companion; his gaze returned to his patent leather pumps, which he inspected with absent-minded concentration.

"I have told you before, I guess, about all I know. He's a good deal of an enigma to me, even yet."

"By the way, how did you happen to get acquainted with him, Steve?" From the manner spoken the question might or might not have been from genuine interest. "You've never told me that."

"Oh, it just happened, I guess. We were in the collegiate department together at first." He laughed shortly. "No, it didn't just happen either after all. I went more than half way--I recognize that now."

The girl said nothing.

"Looking back," continued the man, "I see the reason, too. He fascinated me then, as he does yet. I've had comparatively an easy enough sort of life. I was brought up in town, where there was nothing particular for a boy to do, and when it came college time my father backed me completely.

Darley was the opposite exactly, and he interested me. He was unsocial; somehow that interested me more. I used to wonder why he was so when I first knew him; bit by bit I gathered his history and I wondered less.

He's had a rough-and-tumble time of it from a youngster up." The voice halted suddenly, and the speaker looked at his companion equivocally.

"Still interested, are you, Elice? I don't want to be a bore."

"Yes."

"I'll give you the story then as I've patched it together from time to time. I suppose he had parents once; but as they never figured, I infer they died when he was young. He came from the tall meadows out West straight to the University here. How he got the educational ambition I haven't the remotest idea; somehow he got it and somehow he came. It must have been a rub to make it. He's mentioned times of working on a farm, of chopping ties in Missouri, of heaving coal in a bituminous mine in Iowa, of--I don't know what all. And still he was only a boy when I first saw him; a great, big, over-aged boy with a big chin and bigger hands. The peculiar part is that he wasn't awkward and never has been. Even when he first showed up here green the boys never made a mark of him." Again the short expressive laugh. "I think perhaps they were a bit afraid of him."

"And he got right into the University?"

"Bless you, no; only tentatively. He had a lot of back work to make up at the academy. That didn't bother him apparently. He swallowed that and the regular course whole and cried for more." Armstrong stretched lazily.

His hands sought his pockets. "I guess that's about all I know of the story," he completed.

"All except after he was graduated." It was interest genuine now.

"So you have begun to take notice at last," commented Armstrong, smilingly. "I'm a better _raconteur_ than I imagined. When it comes to being specific, though, after he graduated, I admit I can't say much authoritatively. He'll talk about anything, ordinarily, except himself. I know of a dozen cases from the papers, some of them big ones, that he's been concerned in during the last few years; but he's never mentioned them to me. He seemed to get in right from the start. How he managed to turn the trick I haven't the slightest conception; he simply did. As I said before, he grows to be more of an enigma to me all the time."

Apparently the girl lost interest in the party under discussion; at least she asked no more questions and, dilatory as usual when not definitely directed, Armstrong dropped the lead. For a minute they sat so, gazing out into the night, silent. Under stimulus of a new thought, point blank, whimsical, came a change of subject.

"By the way," commented Armstrong, "I'm considering quitting the University and going into business, Elice. What do you think of the idea?"

"What--I beg your pardon, Steve."

The other repeated the question, all but soberly this time.

"Do you mean it, Steve, really, or are you just drawing me out?"

"Mean it!" Armstrong laughed. "Perhaps, and perhaps not. I don't know.

What do you think of the notion, anyway?"

The girl looked at him steadily, a sudden wrinkle between her eyes.

"You have something special in mind, I judge, Steve; something I don't know about. What is it?"

"Special!" Armstrong laughed again, shortly this time. "Yes, I suppose so; though I didn't know it when I first asked the question. Now I'm uncertain--you take the suggestion so seriously. Graham, the specialty man, made me an offer to-day to go in with him. Five thousand dollars a year to start with, and a prospect of more later on."

The wrinkle between the girl's eyes smoothed. Her hands recrossed in her lap.

"You refused the offer, I judge," she said.

"No; that is, I told him I'd take the matter under advis.e.m.e.nt." Armstrong glanced at his companion swiftly; but she was not looking at him and he too stared out into the night. "I wanted to hear what you said about it first."

"Steve!"

In the darkness the man's face colored.

"Elice, aren't you--ashamed a bit to doubt me?"

"No." She was looking at him now smilingly. "I don't doubt you. I know you."

"You fancy I refused point blank, without waiting to tell you about it?"

For the third time the girl's fingers crossed and interlocked. That was all.

"Elice!" The man moved over to her, paused so, looking down into her face. "Tell me, I'm dead in earnest. Don't you trust me?"

"I trust you absolutely, Steve; but that doesn't prevent my knowing you."

"And I tell you I took the matter under advis.e.m.e.nt."

"He persuaded you to. You refused at first even to consider it."