“Oh, Geoff’s batty—­he’s talkin’ in his sleep.  I ain’t goin’ t’ no college—­Geoff’s got sappy in th’ bean—­”

“Well, you tell him so.”

“Sure thing—­you watch me!”

“No, I’ll get you somethin’ t’ eat—­some milk an’—­”

“Say, what about that punkin pie?”

“You sit right there an’ wait.”

“Chin-Chin!” nodded Spike, and watched her into the house.

No sooner was he alone than he was out of his chair and, descending the steps into the garden, sped gleefully away across lawns and along winding paths, following a haphazard course.  But, as he wandered thus, he came to the stables and so to a large building beyond, where were many automobiles of various patterns and make; and here, very busy with brushes, sponge, and water, washing a certain car and making a prodigious splashing, was a figure there was no mistaking, and one whom Spike hailed in joyous surprise.

“Well, well, if it ain’t th’ old Spider!  Gee, but I’m glad t’ see you!  Say, old sport, I’m a invalid—­pipe my bandages, will ye?”

“Huh!” grunted the Spider, without glancing up from the wheel he was washing.

“Say, old lad,” continued Spike, “I guess they told you how I put it all over Bud, eh?”

“Mph!” said the Spider, slopping the water about.

“Heard how I saved old Geoff from gettin’ snuffed out, didn’t yer?”

“Huh-umph!” growled the Spider.

“That’s sure some car, eh?  Gee, but it’s good t’ see you again, anyway.  How’d you come here, Spider?”

“U-huh!” said the Spider.

“Say,” exclaimed Spike, “quit makin’ them noises an’ say somethin’, can’t yer?  If you can’t talk t’ a pal, I’m goin’.”

“Right-o, Kid!” said the Spider; “only see as you don’t go sheddin’ no more buttons around.”

“B-buttons!” stammered Spike.  “What yer mean?  What buttons?”

The Old Un, who happened to have been dozing in the limousine that stood in a shady corner, sat up suddenly and blinked.

“Why, I mean,” answered the Spider, wringing water from the sponge he held and speaking very deliberately, “I mean the button as you—­left behind you—­in th’ wood!”

Spike gasped and sat down weakly upon the running-board of a car, and the Old Un stole a furtive peep at him.

“So you—­know—?”

“Sure I know—­more ‘n I want t’ know about you, so—­chase yourself out o’ here—­beat it!”

Spike stared in mute amazement, then flushed painfully.

“You mean—­you an’ me—­ain’t goin’ t’ be pals no longer?” he asked wistfully.

“That’s what!” nodded the Spider, without lifting his scowling gaze from the sponge.  “Kid, I ain’t no Gold-medal Sunday-school scholar nor I ain’t never won no prizes at any Purity League conference, but there’s some guys too rotten even f’r me!”

“But I—­I—­saved his life, didn’t I?”

“That ain’t nothin’ t’ blow about after what you did in that wood.  Oh, wake up an’ see just how dirty an’ rotten you are!”