The major concluded his advice by giving Garrison a hearty thump on the back. Then he prepared to charge his wife's boudoir; to resume the peace conference with right on his side for the nonce.
Garrison slowly made his way down-stairs. His face was set. He knew his love for Sue was hopeless; an absurdity, a crime. But why had she broken the engagement? Had Waterbury said anything? He would go over and face Waterbury; face him and be done with it. He was reckless, desperate. As he descended the wide veranda steps a man stepped from behind a magnolia-tree shadowing the broad walk. A clear three-quarter moon was riding in the heavens, and it picked out Garrison's thin set face.
The man swung up, and tapped him on the shoulder. “Hello, Bud!”
Garrison eyed him coldly, and was about to pass when Crimmins barred his way.
“I suppose when you gets up in the world, it ain't your way to know folks you knew before, is it?” he asked gently. “But Dan Crimmins has a heart, an' it ain't his way to shake friends, even if they has money. It ain't Crimmins' way.”
“Take your hand off my shoulder,” said Garrison steadily.
The other's black brows met, but he smiled genially.
“It don't go, Bud. No, no.” He shook his head. “Try that on those who don't know you. I know you. You're Billy Garrison; I'm Dan Crimmins. Now, if you want me to blow in an' tell the major who you are, just say so. I'm obligin'. It's Crimmins' way. But if you want to help an old friend who's down an' out, just say so. I'm waitin'.”
Garrison eyed him. Crimmins? Crimmins? The name was part of his dream. What had he been to this man? What did this man know?
“Take a walk down the pike,” suggested the other easily. “It ain't often you have the pleasure of seein' an old friend, an' the excitement is a little too much for you. I know how it is,” he added sympathetically. He was closely watching Garrison's face.
“It's this way,” began Crimmins, once the shelter of the pike was gained. “I'm Billy Crimmins' brother--the chap who trains for Major Calvert. Now, I was down an' out--I guess you know why--an' so I wrote him askin' for a little help. An' he wouldn't give it. He's what you might call a lovin', confidin', tender young brother. But he mentioned in his letter that Bob Waterbury was here, and he asked why I had left his service. Some things don't get into the papers down here, an' it's just as well. You know why I left Waterbury. Waterbury----!”