reason he hasn't fired Walter. He may know," Adams concluded, morosely—"he may know that's just another thing to make me feel all the meaner: keeping my boy there on a salary after I've done him an injury."
"Now, now!" she said, trying to comfort him. "You couldn't do anybody an injury to save your life, and everybody knows it."
"Well, anybody ought to know I wouldn't want to do an injury, but this world isn't built so't we can do just what we want." He paused, reflecting. "Of course there may be one explanation of why Walter's still there: J. A. maybe hasn't noticed that he is there. There's so many I expect he hardly knows him by sight."
"Well, just do quit thinking about it," she urged him. "It only bothers you without doing any good. Don't you know that?"
"Don't I, though!" he laughed, feebly. "I know it better'n anybody! How funny that is: when you know thinking about a thing only pesters you without helping anything at all, and yet you keep right on pestering yourself with it!"
"But why?"she said. "What's the use when you know you haven't done anything wrong, Virgil?
