any more.

"How'll we piece out?" asked Jack, and his tone was listless. "Who
goes with whom?"

His voice was so different from his usual joking, teasing, snapping
tones that Cora looked at him again. Yes, her brother was certainly
ill, though outwardly it showed only in a thinness of the bronzed
cheeks, and a dull, sunken look in the eyes. A desperately tired
look, which comes only from mental weariness.

"You'd better ride with me, Jack," his sister said. "The car has
more room."

"Walter can come with us," suggested Jack. "I've been sort of
leaning on him in the train, and it eases me. So if--"

"Of course!" interrupted Cora quickly, and Walter, hearing his name
spoken, came hurrying up, from where he had stood joking and talking
with the Robinson twins at their car.

"On the job, Jack, old man!" he exclaimed. "Want me to hold your
hand some more?"

"Wrenched my side a little at football," Jack explained to his
sister. "It sort of eases it to lean against some one. The porter
wanted to get me a pillow, but I'm not an old lady yet--not with Wally
around."

"Harry, think you'll be safe with two of them?" asked Walter, as he