“Sorry, boy, but I had to do it,” the sheriff said in a kindly voice.
“It’s all right, Jim. There’s no hard feelings.”
Donald stood up and drew from his pocket a few crumpled bills and some loose change, then threw out his arms in an eloquent gesture. As he stood with the slanting rays of a late December sun shining on his black hair, he presented a wonderful specimen of man. Six feet in height, of a deceptive slenderness, his rather tight-fitting grey suit set off the graceful lines of a supple body. His shoulders were wide, with the gentle slope that denotes agility as well as strength. His fine white skin and long black lashes would have given his features an effeminate touch but for the manly mould of his face, with its square jaw, broad forehead, and deep, wide-set eyes.
The sheriff’s appraising eyes glowed with admiration as they rested on the young man. To the casual eye Donald appeared of slight build, but his old friend knew of the steel-like muscles of those arms and the strength of the long, straight legs.
The mind of the older man flashed back to a football game in Donald’s High School days, with the State championship at stake. Donald had been sent into the game at the eleventh hour, and with defeat staring the home team in the face he had torn through the opposing lines like a madman for agonizing gains until his dark head flashed across the line to victory.
“Here, boy, take this,” the sheriff said awkwardly, thrusting a roll of bills into Donald’s hand.
The young man’s face flushed. “It’s awfully good of you, Jim, but I——”
“It’s all right, Don,” interrupted the older man, summoning a smile. “I’m just giving you a loan.”
Donald looked at him soberly. “I’ll pay you back when—I—I—earn it.”
His face very serious, the sheriff placed a hand on Donald’s shoulder.
“Now, listen, Don. Your father and I talked here in the office for an hour before he bailed you out, and we agreed that the best thing was to let you go on your own. No, I am not going to give you a lecture, for you are not wholly to blame. Having a rich father is not the best thing for a young fellow, but because you got fired out of college should not make a husky boy like you lose his grip. You just step out and buck the line like you do in football and you’ll sure make a touchdown.” He gripped Donald’s hand. “Good-bye and good luck, Donnie!” he added feelingly.