One might have read the envy
in Ernie's soul as his eyes swept the tall, straight, simply clad
Southerner who approached. He stood his ground defiantly, however;
there was no smile of friendliness on his thin lips.
"Hello, Ernie," said David. Ernie's arms were folded across his
breast. As he gave no sign of unfolding them, David did not proffer
his hand.
"You don't have to speak to me if you don't want to," muttered Ernie,
his eyes snapping.
"Where is Braddock?" asked the other, imperturbably.
The rat-like eyes glittered with a cunning smile. "Don't ask me. Got
you worried, eh?"
"We are trying to keep him from hurting Christine, that's all," said
David tactfully.
"He ain't going to do that," said Ernie quickly. A shadow of anxiety
crept into his face, however. "He's after Grand."
"Just the same, we are afraid. Is he here?"
"No. He's asleep at my place, if that'll do you any good. I'm not
going to turn against her father, which is more than the rest of you
can say. You can tell her, if you want to, that I'm still his friend."
It was plain to be seen that he was adopting this pitiful policy as a
means of gaining the attention of the otherwise unapproachable
Christine.
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