“And I say you sha’n’t stay,” he declared.  “Paul and I will settle the proprietorship of the room after you’re out of it.  Now you get!”

“Maybe you’ll put me out?” asked Cowan with a show of bravado.  But he glanced toward the door as he spoke.  Neil nodded.

“Maybe I will,” he answered grimly.

“Cowan’s my guest, Neil!” cried Paul.  “And you’ve no right to put him out, and I sha’n’t let you!”

“He’ll go out of here, if I have to fight him and you too, Paul!” Paul stared in wonderment.  He was so used to being humored by his roommate that this declaration of war took his breath away.  Cowan laughed with attempted nonchalance.

“Your friend’s a bit chesty, Paul,” he said.  “Perhaps we’d better humor him.”

“No, stay where you are,” said Paul.  “If he thinks he’s boss of me he’s mistaken.”  He glared wrathfully at Neil, and yet with a trifle of uneasiness.  Paul was no coward, but physical conflict with Neil was something so contrary to the natural order that it appalled him.  Neil removed the gorgeous bottle-green velvet jacket that he wore in the evenings, and threw open the study door.  Then he faced Cowan.  That gentleman returned his gaze for a moment defiantly.  But something in Neil’s expression caused his eyes to drop and seek the portal.  He laughed uneasily, and with simulated indifference laid his hand on Paul’s shoulder.

“Come on, old chap,” he said, “let’s get out before we’re torn to bits.  There’s no pleasure in staying with such a disagreeable fire-eater, anyhow.  Come up to my room, and let him cool off.”

Paul hesitated, and then turned to follow Cowan, who was strolling toward the door.  Angry as he was, deep in his heart he was glad to avoid conflict with his chum.

“All right,” he answered in a voice that trembled, “we’ll go; but”—­turning to Neil—­“if you think I’m going to put up with this sort of thing, you’re mistaken.  You can have this room, and I’ll get another.”

“I’d suggest your rooming with Cowan,” answered Neil, “since you’re so fond of him.”

“Your friend’s jealous,” laughed Cowan from the hall.  Paul joined him, slamming the door loudly as he went.

Neil heard Cowan’s laughter and the sound of their steps as they climbed the stairs.  For several moments he stood motionless, staring at the door.  Then he shook his head, donned his jacket, and sat down again.  Now that it was done, he was intensely sorry.  As for the quarrel with Cowan, that troubled not at all; but an open breach with Paul was something new and something which, just at this time especially, might work for ill.  Paul was already so far under Cowan’s domination that anything tending to foster their friendship was unfortunate.  Neil was ashamed, too, of his burst of temper, and the remainder of the evening passed miserably enough.

When Paul returned he was cold and repellent, and answered Neil’s attempts at conversation in monosyllables.  Neil, however, was glad to find that Paul said nothing further about a change of quarters, and in that fact found encouragement.  After all, Paul would soon get over his anger, he told himself; the two had been firm friends for three years, and it would take something more than the present affair to estrange them.