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Still, Peter was by no means sure that
Kennedy was not a square man, and concluded he was right in not
condemning him, when, passing through one of the cars, he overheard the
following:
"What kind of man is that Stirling, who's raised such ---- in the
sixth?"
"I don't know him, but Kennedy told me, before he'd swung round, that he
was a darned good sort of a cuss."
This was flattery, Peter understood, however questionable the form might
seem, and he was pleased. Very few of us do not enjoy a real compliment.
What makes a compliment uncomfortable is either a suspicion that the
maker doesn't mean it, or a knowledge that it is not merited.
Peter went at once to his room on reaching the hotel in Saratoga,
intending to make up the sleep of which his long "think" the night
before had robbed him. But scarcely had the colored gentleman bowed
himself out, after the usual "can I git de gentleman a pitcher of ice
water" (which translated means: "has de gentleman any superfluous
change?") when a knock came at the door.


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