Robert was full of surprise and worry. It was plainly evident that Stonewell was under deep emotion, and just like him, he could not or would not speak of the matter that so affected him. "I wish he would talk it over with me," thought Robert; "it always makes a fellow feel better if he tells his worries to a true friend. What a lot of times old Stone has helped me in my troubles--and some of them were big ones, too! When we take our walk this afternoon I'll try to get him to tell me." Robert now went out in the grounds, thinking he might meet his roommate, but he did not, and as they sat at different mess tables he had no chance to talk with Stonewell until after dinner. As soon as they were dismissed after dinner Robert found his roommate, and said: "Come along, Stone, let's start out right away; it's a beautiful day and we'll have a glorious ramble." "Bob, I can't go; I find I have some letters I must write; get somebody else to go with you, old fellow--I wish I could go, but I really can't." Robert looked blankly at Stonewell. His anticipations of a pleasant walk suddenly vanished and the day seemed dreary. He knew his roommate too well to try to expostulate or argue with him. "I'm awfully sorry, Bob," continued Stonewell, laying an affectionate arm on Robert's shoulder, and with real concern noticing Robert's evident disappointment. "I do wish I could go with you, but I really can't." "I think I'll write some letters too," remarked Robert in a dull, forlorn sort of way. "Oh, don't waste this beautiful afternoon that way!" said Stonewell; "why don't you get Helen to take a walk with you; she's probably thinking you may call to-day." "I'm going to write some letters," reiterated Robert stolidly. "Why, Bob, that's ridiculous; go out and enjoy the day," urged Stonewell; "it will be awfully tiresome remaining indoors all afternoon." But Robert was as immovable as he knew Stonewell to be; the latter seemed more anxious for Robert to go out than the circumstances called for. In a few minutes both were in their room, writing, and both ill at ease. As a matter of fact neither wanted to write letters. "Stone, I want you to tell me what has been bothering you," Robert finally blurted out. "You have helped me any number of times and I have never done a thing for you."