“What if I did? Morty, look here. I’ve been learning something on this trip. I’ve always wanted to just do one thing—see foreign places. Well, I want to do that just as much as ever. But there’s something that’s a whole lot more important. Somehow, I ain’t ever had many friends. Some ways you’re about the best friend I’ve ever had—you ain’t neither too highbrow or too lowbrow. And this friendship business—it means such an awful lot. It’s like what I was reading about—something by Elbert Hubbard or—thunder, I can’t remember his name, but, anyway, it’s one of those poet guys that writes for the back page of the _Journal_—something about a _joyous adventure_. That’s what being friends is. Course you understand I wouldn’t want to say this to most people, but you’ll understand how I mean. It’s—this friendship business is just like those old crusaders— you know—they’d start out on a fine morning—you know; armor shining, all that stuff. It wouldn’t make any dif. what they met as long as they was fighting together. Rainy nights with folks sneaking through the rain to get at ’em, and all sorts of things— ready for anything, long as they just stuck together. That’s the way this friendship business is, I b’lieve. Just like it said in the _Journal_. Yump, sure is. Gee! it’s—Chance to tell folks what you think and really get some fun out of seeing places together. And I ain’t ever done it much. Course I don’t mean to say I’ve been living off on any blooming desert island all my life, but, just the same, I’ve always been kind of alone—not knowing many folks. You know how it is in a New York rooming-house. So now—Aw, don’t slip up on me, Morty. Honestly, I don’t care what kind of work we do as long as we can stick together; I don’t care a hang if we don’t get anything better to do than scrub floors!” Morton patted his arm and did not answer for a while. Then: “Yuh, I know how you mean. And it’s good of you to like beating it around with me. But you sure got the exaggerated idee of me. And you’d get sick of the holes I’m likely to land in.” There was a certain pride which seemed dreadfully to shut Mr. Wrenn out as Morton added: “Why, man, I’m going to do all of Europe. From the Turkish jails to—oh, St. Petersburg…. You made good on the _Merian_, all right. But you do like things shipshape.” “Oh, I’d—” “We might stay friends if we busted up now and met in New York again. But not if you get into all sorts of bum places w—” “Why, look here, Morty—” “—with me…. However, I’ll think it over. Let’s not talk about it till to-morrow.” “Oh, please do think it over, Morty, old man, won’t you? And to-night you’ll let me take you to a music-hall, won’t you?” “Uh—yes,” Morton hesitated.