"Oh, piffle!" Bassett groaned. "Don't start that all over again. Don't
pull any Enoch Arden stuff on me, looking in at a lighted window and
wandering off to drive a taxicab."
Suddenly Dick laughed. Bassett watched him, puzzled and angry, with a
sort of savage tenderness.
"You're crazy," he said morosely. "Darned if I understand you. Here I've
got everything fixed as slick as a whistle, and it took work, believe
me. And now you say you're going to chuck the whole thing."
"Not at all," Dick replied, with a new ring in his voice. "You're right.
I've been ten sorts of a fool, but I know now what I'm going to do. Take
your paper, old friend, and for my sake go out and clear Jud Clark. Put
up a headstone to him, if you like, a good one. I'll buy it."
"And what will you be doing in the meantime?"
Dick stretched and threw out his arms.
"Me?" he said. "What should I be doing, old man? I'm going home."