"You take that," he directed.
"Why, this is a receipted bill for the damage done to your statue," said
Bart.
"Eighty-five dollars--just so."
"But I haven't paid it!"
"You needn't. Serious mistake--I see that," said the colonel. "That is,
I see it now. Satisified you didn't mean any harm. Sick of whole muddle.
And about getting you discharged and all that rot--didn't mean it.
Forget it! Was a little mad and excited; see!"
"I can't take your receipt for what I haven't paid, and what I am
willing to pay as fast as I can," said Bart.
"Then tear it up--I won't take a cent!" declared Colonel Harrington
obstinately.
"The cab is coming," remarked Bart. "Shall Mr. Carey drive you home?"
"Yes, I suppose so. Come here, quick!"
He grabbed Bart's arm and drew our hero close up to him, as though he
had some pressing intelligence to impart before the cab interrupted.
"Forget it!" he whispered hoarsely.
"About the statue--I'll be glad to," said Bart frankly.
"No--no, the--the--"
"Runaway? I shall not mention it, Colonel Harrington."
The colonel released Bart's arm, but with a desperate groan. It was
evident he was not fully satisfied.
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