“Don’t interrupt; as I was trying to say, Mr. Morris has been exceedingly white to me; so much so that I have often wondered how I might show him I appreciate it. Well, the fact is, he has asked me to do something just lately that I don’t in the least want to do, and I don’t see how in the deuce I am to get out of it.” “Knowing Morris,” commented Carroll, lazily, “I don’t in the least fancy you are going to get out of it. He lays his plans too well. What does he want?” “Have you seen Finch, the new boy?” “Finch?—oh! the kid they call Pinch. Yes, boy, I have seen him; one look was too much. It’s awful.” Then Reggie’s eyes lighted, and he gave an exclamation. “By Jove, I see it all—the whole thing—Bill wants you to be his guardian angel.” “Precisely,” said Tony, with an expression of infinite disgust. “And you, my child, fully mean to be.” “Hang it!” said Tony. “I suppose I do.” For a moment Carroll was silent and his expression changed from one of good-natured raillery to one of subtle sadness. “Poor little devil!” he said at last, “why not?” Tony looked at him to see if he were joking. “Oh, I know I couldn’t do it,” Reggie went on. “I haven’t the knack or the grace, or whatever it is called. But old Bill is right; you have. Why, kiddo, the world’s a hell for a lot of people just because the rest of us, who have had more of a chance, sit tight and comfy and don’t care.” “I suppose it is,” said Tony grimly, “but to tell the truth, I hate to think about such things—for a while yet, anyway.” “There is one thing to be said,” Carroll continued, without paying any attention to Tony’s remark, “if you do it, do it from the bottom up. Make a good job of it.” “It’s sheer asininity,” protested Tony. “I can’t do it. Oh, Reggie, I hate him! he’s a loathsome little reptile.” “Naturally he is that, or Bill would not be so extraordinary on the subject. He doesn’t mess with our affairs very often, you know.” “Yes, I know,” Tony muttered. “Do you chance to know why the Head took him?” “Not really—some family obligation, I believe. The kid was left to him by unspeakable parents who died of disgust at their work.” Carroll smiled. “Have you begun yet?” he asked. “No. I have sworn fifty times a day that I’d have nothing to do with it. And now I am going to get up this blessed minute and go in and have a talk with him. Talk to Jim a bit, and I’ll be back and tell you about it.” “All right,” said Carroll with a smile. Tony jumped out of bed, folded his blue wrapper about him tragically, struck a dramatic attitude, and stalked out of the room. Reggie joined Lawrence in the study. Half an hour later Tony returned. “How’s Pinch?” exclaimed Lawrence. “How did it go?” asked Carroll.