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"Sounds wonderful, Wick. Hear that, Mac?" He laughed. "One of those long weekends in the country, that you read about!"

"I'll be late," Wick said, turning. "Goodbye."

"Give my love to Helen."

"You're sure there isn't anything you want?"

"Thanks, Wick, I don't want anything. Have a good time."

"You'll surely be here?"

"Here?"

"When I come back."

"Of course I'll be here!" He was reproachful, hurt, and his brother turned at once toward the door.

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye. Give my love to Helen!"

The door was closed; and he smiled to himself as he realized what an effort it had cost Wick not to look back once more. He smiled because he was relieved to be alone again and because he knew so much more about this whole thing than his brother did. Poor Wick, he thought, and at once he began to feel better. "Well, Mac," he said aloud, "it seems that we're going to the country." He got up and went over to look at the dollar bill lying on the radio. Then he came back and sat down again in the big chair.