wn into it with an emphasis that shook the floor. Devon,
fastening his tie before the full-length mirror set in the door leading
to their common bath-room, started at the sound, like a high-strung
prima donna. This was one of Laurie's temperamental mornings.

"What the devil's the matter with you, Bangs?" he demanded, but without
ill humor. "Can't you get on a shoe without imitating the recoil of a
seventy-five centimeter gun?"

Bangs grunted, drew on the other shoe, and drove his foot into it with
increased energy. Laurie looked at him, and this time there was a spark
in his black eyes. Very quietly he turned, crossed the small room, and,
planting himself in front of his chum, resentfully stared down at the
dynamic youth.

"What's the idea?" he demanded. "Are you deliberately trying to be
annoying?"

Rodney did not raise his head. His fingers were busy with a complicated
knot.

"Oh, shut up!" he muttered.

Laurie, his hands in his pockets, remained where he was. Under his
continued inspection, the fingers of Bangs grew clumsy. He fumbled with
the knot, and, having unfastened it, prolonged to the utmost the process
of lacing his shoes. He knew what must come as soon as he settled back
in his chair. It had been coming for days. He was in for an unpleasant
ten minutes. But the situation was one he had deliberately created as
the only possible way of bringing about a serious talk with his friend.
Now that it was here, he was anxious to make the most of it. With head
bent and thoughts busy he played for time.

At last, the shoes laced and his campaign mapped out, he sat up and met
Laurie's eyes. Their expression of antagonism, temporary though he knew
it to be, hurt him. Devon, when he had his own way, and he usually had
it, was a singularly sweet-tempered chap. Never before, throughout their
year of close association, had he looked at Bangs like that. Rodney knew
that he deserved the look. For days past he had deliberately subjected
his companion to a series of annoyances, small but intensely irritating.

"Well?" demanded Laurie. "What's the answer?"

"What answer?" Rodney was in the position of a small boy challenged to
combat in cold blood. He was experiencing some difficulty in working
himself up to the necessary heat for an engagement. But Laurie's next
words helped him out.

"You've been making a damned nuisance of yourself for the last week," he
said deliberately. "I want to know why."

Bangs squared hi