The allowance idea was mine and it worked well.  We figured that, allowing for his washing,—­which was not much, as he seemed to prefer the celluloid collar,—­he could live in a sort of way on nine dollars a week.  We subscribed equally to this; and to save his pride we mailed it to him weekly by check.

His failure to sell his things hurt him to the soul.  More than once we caught tears in his eyes.  And he was not well—­he could not walk any distance at all and he coughed.  At last Tish got Charlie Sands to take him to a lung specialist, a stupid person, who said it was a cigarette cough.  This was absurd, as Tufik did not smoke.

At last the time came for the Panama trip.  Tish called me up the day she packed and asked me to come over.

“I can’t.  I’m busy, Tish,” I said.

She was quite disagreeable.  “This is your burden as well as mine,” she snapped.  “Come over and talk to that wretched boy while I pack my trunk.  He stands and watches everything I put in, and I haven’t been able to pack a lot of things I need.”

I went over that afternoon and found Tufik huddled on the top step of the stairs outside Tish’s apartment, with his head in his hands.

“She has put me out!” he said, looking up at me with tragic eyes.  “My mother has put me out!  She does not love Tufik!  No one loves Tufik!  I am no good.  I am a dirty dago!”

I was really shocked.  I rang the bell and Tish let me in.  She had had no maid since Hannah’s departure and was taking her meals out.  She saw Tufik and stiffened.

“I thought I sent you away!” she said, glaring at him.

He looked at her pitifully.

“Where must I—­go?” he asked, and coughed.

Tish sighed and flung the door wide open.  “Bring him in,” she said with resignation, “but for Heaven’s sake lock him in a closet until I get my underwear packed.  And if he weeps—­slap him.”

The poor boy was very repentant, and seeing that his cough worried us he fought it back bravely.  I mixed the white of an egg with lemon juice and sugar, and gave it to him.  He was pathetically grateful and kissed my hand.  At five o’clock we sent him away firmly, having given him thirty-six dollars.  He presented each of us with a roll of crocheted lace to take with us and turned in the doorway to wave a wistful final good-bye.

We met at Tish’s that night so that we might all go together to the train.  Charlie Sands had agreed to see us off and to keep an eye on Tufik during our absence.  Aggie was in a palpitating travel ecstasy, clutching a patent seasick remedy and a map of the Canal Zone; Tish was seeing that the janitor shut off the gas and water in the apartment; and Charlie Sands was jumping on top of a steamer trunk to close it.  The taxicab was at the door and we had just time to make the night train.  The steamer sailed early the next morning.

“All ready!” cried Charlie Sands, getting the lid down finally.  “All off for the Big Ditch!”