Nothing loathe, Kenny obeyed. He liked to talk. Garry found his plans
indefinite and highly romantic. It was plain the notion of footsore
penance had taken vigorous hold of his imagination and his love of
adventure. Characteristically, since the actor on the highway was
himself, he saw no chance of failure. To Garry's curt "ifs" he turned
a deaf ear and sulked.

In the end they quarreled badly. Garry, raging inwardly, went home in
despair; and Kenny, after a tumultuous period of indecision, eliminated
a floorful of luggage. In the rebound he took less than he should.
He was ready to go when the door opened and the head of Sidney Fahr
appeared. Instantly his round eyes bulged with inquiry.

"Lord Almighty, Kenny," he said. "You--you're not off for anywhere,
are you?"

"I am," said Kenny.

Sid came in and closed the door.

"I--I can't believe it!" he sputtered.

"Don't!" said Kenny. He was out of sorts. Garry, talking of honor and
letters, had given him a bad interval of indecision and guilt.

"It--it's amazing!" went on Sid. "You were all right at breakfast--"

Kenny wheeled furiously.

"Sid," he snorted, "you're amazed when it rains. You're amazed when it