by his side.

"Go!" shouted Hench from the window ledge.

At the word, the two on the mattress turned and grappled each other
fiercely, half rising to their feet in the strenuousness of endeavour.
Jeems tried frantically for a half-Nelson. While preventing it the wily
Bert awaited his chance for a hammer-lock. In the moment of indecision
as to which would succeed in his charitable design, a knock on the door
put an end to hostilities. The gladiators sat upright and panted.

A young man stepped bashfully into the room and closed the door behind
him.

The newcomer was a clean-cut young fellow, of perhaps twenty-two years
of age, with regular features, brown eyes, straight hair, and sensitive
lips. He was exceedingly well-dressed. A moment's pause followed his
appearance. Then:

"Why, it's our old friend, the kid!" cried Jeems.

"Don't let me interrupt," begged the youth diffidently.

"No interruption. End of round one," panted Jeems. "Glad you came.
Bertie, here, was twisting my delicate clavicle most cruelly. Know
Hench and Beck there?"

De Laney bowed to the young men in the window, who removed their pipes
from their mouths and grinned amiably.