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Bug Buler came just in time to save both of us. There is a comfort in feeling we can learn something. I've needed books and college professors to temper me to courtesy." It was the only apology Vic had ever offered to Burgess, who accepted it as all that he deserved. "We learn more from men than from books sometimes.
And the darkness and rain swallowed him as he leaped away to the westward! Burgess gazed into the blackness into which Bond Saxon had gone until a soft hand touched his, and he looked down to see little Bug Buler, clad in his nightgown, standing barefoot beside him. "Where's Vic?" Bug demanded. "I don't know," Burgess answered. "Take me up, I'se told."
Norrie, I know this out of the years of my own lonely life." Elinor's eyes were dewy with tears and she bent her head until her hair touched his cheek. "I'll try to be good 'fornever, as Bug Buler says," she murmured. Over in the Saxon House on this same evening Vincent Burgess had come in to see Dennie about some books. "I took your advice, Dennie," he said.
"The little place up the river where a queer, half-crazy woman lives alone with a fierce dog?" he asked. "Yes, you never heard anything more?" Dennie queried. "Only that the house is hidden from the road and has many pigeons about it, and that the woman sees few callers. I've never located the place. Tell me about it," he replied. "Bug Buler and I were up there after eggs this morning.
The thought of it has cursed my soul night and day till I found out you had saved him. "Third. The girl you want to marry go and marry. Do anything, good or bad, to destroy Burgess. "Fourth. The money Burgess had is yours, only because I'm giving it to you. It belongs to Bug Buler. He couldn't talk plain when you saved him.
Burleigh asked, lifting his cap to his instructor with the words. "Certainly," Vincent Burgess said with equal grace. Bug Buler had kicked off the bed covering and lay fast asleep on his little cot with his stubby arms bare, and his little fat hands, dimpled in each knuckle, thrown wide apart.
Presently, he saw Elinor and Victor Burleigh strolling away in the soft evening light. At the corner, Elinor turned and waved a good-by to him. Then the memory of his own commencement day came back to him, and of the happy night before. Oh, that night before! Can a man ever forget! And now, tonight! "Don Fonnybone," Bug Buler piped, as he came trudging around the corner. "I want to confessing."
"Not unless one chooses to burrow downward," she replied softly. "Let's hurry home. Tomorrow you will be 'Victor the Famous' again. I hope this shower won't spoil the ball game." As night deepened, the rain fell steadily. Up in Victor Burleigh's room Bug Buler grew drowsy early. "I want to say my pwayers now, Vic," he said. The big fellow put down his book and took the child in his arms.
"Victor," Elinor said, as they listened, "do you know that the Sunrise girls envy Bug Buler? They say you would have more time for the girls if it wasn't for him. What you spend for him you could spend on light refreshments for them, don't you see?" "I know I'm a stingy cuss," Vic said, carelessly, but a deeper red touched his cheek.
As Vic seated himself, Bug perched on the arm of the chair inside of the big boy's encircling arm. "Who is your friend? Is he your brother?" asked the Dean. "No. He's no relation. I don't know anything about him, except that his name is Buler. Bug Buler, he says." Little Bug put up a chubby brown hand loving-wise to Vic Burleigh's brown cheek, and, looking straight at Dr.
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