Charlie shivered involuntarily. Sally was very good at managing affairs. He could see her pitying smile as she listened in silence to his string of plausible lies and the look from the gray eyes would be boring straight down into his soul as he talked, and he would be afraid. And his speech would grow more halting, and he would finish in some confusion and Sally would turn away with a quiet "Humph!" or she would say nothing at all, which would be almost worse. And she would not tell him what she was going to do, but she would go and do it, and it--whatever it was--would be most effective, and that was exactly what Charlie did not want. He shivered again as he thought of it. Sally managed affairs too well; that was the trouble. No, distinctly no; he did not want Sally to have any hand in this affair. He thought that he could manage it very well himself. It was going beautifully, so far. "No, Pat," he said gently. "I prefer not to tell Sally. I--to tell the truth, Sally and mother don't seem very glad to see me. I think they'd rather I stayed away." "Oh, you poor boy!" Patty's eyes shone with pity. "You dear boy! _I'm_ glad to see you, anyway, Charlie, dear. You have one friend who won't desert you." "Thank you, Pat. I thought I could depend on you." "I'll undertake the management of this affair." Patty spoke with pride. A faint smile began to curl the corners of Charlie's mouth. He suppressed it. Patty was deep in thought; or she flattered herself that she was. She might as well have undertaken to add a cubit to her stature by taking thought. She was silent for some minutes, looking more worried with every minute that passed. At last she looked up. "Oh, dear!" she said, sighing, "I can't think of anything. It wouldn't do any good for you to go away, would it?" Charlie shook his head and looked very solemn. "No. That would mean giving up my college course and jumping my bail. I should become a fugitive from justice." That sounded rather impressive and Charlie repeated it, as impressively as he could. "A fugitive from justice." "Charlie, don't!" cried Patty wildly. "It sounds as if you were a criminal." Charlie made no reply. "What would you suggest?" "Nothing," he answered with resignation. "There is nothing to be done but for me to surrender myself to my bondsmen--" That sounded impressive, too. "Surrender myself to my bondsmen," he repeated, "and to the justice of the court." "Oh, Charlie!" Patty wailed faintly. "Oh, Charlie, dear, isn't there some other way?" He shook his head again. "No other way that I can see. No other way that wouldn't call for more money than I can possibly raise. For I won't ask you for it, Pat. I simply _won't_." Patty was lying back in her chair. She seemed to feel faint again, and Charlie hurried to her, the little green bottle once more in his hand. She waved it aside. "H-how much," she asked, "must you have, Charlie?"