"Most of Dad's savings went to see me through college.

I've a little--" "Would a thousand a year see you through, with what you've got ?" asked Carl quietly.
But Wherry did not answer.

He had walked away to the window, shaking.
Presently he turned back to the table, but his face was white and his eyes dark with agony.

Dropping into a chair he buried his face in his hands, unnerved at the end of his fight by Carl's offer.
Wisely the man by the fire let him fight it out by himself and for an interval there was no sound in the quiet room save the crackle of the log and the great choking breaths of the boy by the table, whose head had fallen forward on his outstretched arms.
Carl threw his cigar into the fire and rose.
"Brace up, Dick!" he said at length.

"We've been touching the high spots up here and you were strung to a tension that had to break." He crossed to Wherry and laid his hand heavily on the boy's heaving shoulder.