But then as I think I have remarked once before, Rex is not the hero of this story.  He is a boy of very impulsive nature, as often wrong as right in his motives.  Perhaps he might have taken a wiser method of standing up for his sister on the present occasion.  Be this as it may, he did not regret the black eye he went up to his room to bathe a little while later.

And while the battle did not result in a decisive victory for either side, it was noticeable that Mr. J. Ashby Stout did not again accompany Driscoll to the Homestead.  But some one else appeared the next day to whom Rex found it necessary to explain how be came by his battered visage.

CHAPTER XXXVI

 Miles Breaks the news

A compromise had been effected with the striking waiters, and the heat had lessened a little in its intensity.  The two things, together with the nonappearance of Ashby Stout were blessings for which Rex had to be grateful.

But when the stage came in and he recognized among the passengers Miles Darley and the latter’s father, he did not know whether he was glad or not.  They were links connecting him with that past life which he was trying his best to forget.  Now it seemed to him that only by forgetting it and thus doing away with the power of contrast, could he be happy in the present.

“You dear old fellow!” Miles rushed forward with this exclamation and fairly took Rex in his arms.

He had grown much in the past few months and the clothes he wore set off his figure to great advantage.

“I won’t say where on earth did you come from,” said Rex, “but where in the world are you going to, that you should take in this forsaken place?”

“Well, that’s polite, I’m sure,” laughed Miles, “Can’t you imagine that Batemans may be our objective point?”

“No, because I’m certain you can’t be interested in saw mills, and that’s the only thing that brings people here.”

“But I can be interested in you, can’t I, Rex?  I’ve missed you terribly.  That great house seems so lonely with only three of us in it.”

“But you needn’t have stayed there in the summer.  There’s the White Mountains or the sea coast—­ lots of places you could have gone to.”

“If we choose to come here instead, it’s all right, isn’t it, Rex?”

“Of course it is, old fellow, and now I see that the best way in which I can entertain you is to tell you right off how I came by this black eye,” which Rex proceeded at once to do.

“Good for you, my little game cock!” exclaimed Miles, when he had heard the story.  “Speaking of Stout, your friend Harrington has tried to scrape acquaintance with me, but he hasn’t got beyond the scraping stage yet.  I wonder what Stout was doing out here.”

“His father’s in the lumber business, I believe.  But I’m afraid you’ll find it pretty hot, Miles.”