d to giving expression to his
confused emotions, and he didn't know how to go about it. "I'd--I'd like
to be like you; that's it. I--I didn't want you to be like me.... Those
women are awful bags. Anything might happen."

"Why didn't you stop Carl Peters, too, then?"

"Peters knows his way about. He can take care of himself. You're
different, though.... You've never been drunk before, have you?"

"No. No, I never have." Hugh's irritation was all gone. He was touched,
deeply touched, by Slade's clumsy admiration, and he felt weak,
emotionally exhausted after his little spree. "It's awfully good of you
to--to think of me that way. I'm--I'm glad you stopped me."

Slade stood up. He felt that he had better be going. He couldn't tell
Hugh how much he liked and admired him, how much he envied him. He was
altogether sentimental about the boy, entirely devoted to him. He had
wanted to talk to Hugh more than Hugh had wanted to talk to him, but he
had never felt that he had anything to offer that could possibly
interest Hugh. It was a strange situation; the hero had put the hero
worshiper on a high, white marble pedestal.

He moved toward the door. "So long," he said as casually as he could.

Hugh jumped up and rushed to him. "I'm awfully grateful to you, Harry,"
he said impulsively. "It was damn white of you. I--I don't know how to
thank you." He held out his hand.

Slade gripped it for a moment, and then, muttering another "So long,"
passed out of the door.

Hugh was more confused than ever and grew steadily more confused as the
days passed. He couldn't understand why Slade, frankly unchaste himself,
should consider his chastity so important. He was genuinely glad that
Slade had rescued him, genuinely grateful, but his confusion about all
things sexual was more confounded. The strangest thing was that when he
told Carl about Slade's talk, Carl seemed to understand perfectly,
though he never offered a satisfactory explanation.

"I know how he feels," Carl said, "and I'm awfully glad he butted in and
pulled you away. I'd hate to see you messing around with bags like that
myself, and if I hadn't been drunk I wouldn't have let you. I'm more
grateful to him than you are. Gee! I'd never have forgiven myself," he
concluded fervently.

* * * * *

Just when the Incident was beginning to occupy less of Hugh's thoughts,
it was suddenly brought back with a crash. He came home from the
gymnasium o