There was a moment of tense silence, and then Sam went on:

"Well, if you won't--you won't--that's all. I've done my share."

"That's right," chimed in some of his cronies, including Nick Johnson.

"It was an accident, anyhow," the latter added.

"An _avoidable_ accident," put in Bruce quietly. "You are lucky it was
no worse, Heller. Tom might have been seriously injured."

"A miss is as good as a mile," quoted someone. "Better give him a lift
back, Sam. I'll walk."

"Will you ride in the car?" asked Sam, half eagerly, for he realized
how popular Tom was, and he knew how thin was the ice on which he was
skating. "Come on, there's lots of room."

"No--thank you," said Tom between his teeth, and it was an effort to
add the last two words. "I can walk."

There was a little pause--an embarrassed silence, and then Nick said:

"Well, we might as well go on, Sam."

"Yes, I guess so. We can't do any good here. Come on, fellows."

They piled back into the car. There were some good-nights in which Sam
and his crony did not join, and then the auto rolled off in the
moonlight.