Billy, moved perhaps by weariness rather than mercy, let go his man
and straightened up, feeling mechanically for his hat. His eyes met
those of the melancholy Mr. Dill.

"If you're quite through"--bang! went the heads--"perhaps we may as
well"--bang!--"leave this unruly crowd"--bang!!--"and go to our room.
It is after eleven o'clock." Mr. Dill looked as though his present
occupation was unpleasant but necessary and as though, to please
Billy, he could keep it up indefinitely.

Charming Billy stood quite still, staring at the other and at what he
was doing; and while he stared and wondered, something came into the
heart of him and quite changed his destiny. He did not know what it
was, or why it was so; at the time he realized only a deep amazement
that Mr. Dill, mild of manner, correct of speech and wistful-eyed,
should be standing there banging the heads of two men who were
considered rather hard to handle. Certainly Jack Morgan was reputed a
"bad actor" when it came to giving blows. And while Alexander P. Dill
was a big man--an enormous man, one might say--he had none of the
earmarks of a fighting man. It was, perhaps, his very calmness that
won Billy for good and all. Before, Charming Billy had felt toward him
a certain amused pity; his instinct had been to protect Mr. Dill. He
would never feel just that way again; Mr. Dill, it would seem, was
perfectly well able to protect himself.

"Shall we go?" Mr. Dill poised the two heads for another bang and held
them so. By this time every one in the room was watching, but he had
eyes only for Billy.