"Unless I know the reasons, I refuse to do anything of the kind,"
I retorted. He bowed.
"Then the door will be kept locked," he rejoined, and opened it
for me. He did not follow me, but stood watching until I was
down, and I heard him close the roof door firmly behind me.
Chapter XXI. A BAR OF SOAP
Late that evening Betty Mercer and Dallas were writing verses of
condolence to be signed by all of us and put under the door into
Jim's room when Bella came running down the stairs.
Dal was reading the first verse when she came. "Listen to this,
Bella," he said triumphantly:
"There was a fat artist named Jas,
Who cruelly called his friends nas.
When, altho' shut up tight,
He broke out over night
With a rash that is maddening, he clas."
Then he caught sight of Bella's face as she stood in the doorway,
and stopped.
"Jim is delirious!" she announced tragically. "You shut him in
there all alone and now he's delirious. I'll never forgive any of
you."
"Delirious!" everybody exclaimed.
"He was sane enough when I took him his chicken broth," Mr.
Harbison said. "He was almost fluent."
"He is stark, staring crazy," Bella insisted hysterically. "I--I
locked the door carefully when I went down to my dinner, and when
I came up it--it was unlocked, and Jim was babbling on the bed,
with a sheet over his face.
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