"Just as you say," Billy assented submissively.

Mr. Dill shook the two with their faces close together, led them to a
couple of chairs and set them emphatically down. "Now, see if you can
behave yourselves," he advised, in the tone a father would have
used toward two refractory boys. "You have been acting boorishly and
disgracefully all evening. It was you who directed me wrong, to-day.
You have not, at any time since I first met you, acted like gentlemen;
I should be sorry to think this country held many such brainless
louts." He turned inquiringly toward Charming Billy and nodded his
head toward the door. Billy, stooping unsteadily for his hat which he
discovered under his feet, followed him meekly out.




CHAPTER VII.

"_Till Hell's a Skating-rink._"


Charming Billy opened his eyes slowly, but with every sense at the
normal degree of alertness; which was a way he had, born of light
sleeping and night-watching. He had slept heavily, from the feel of
his head, and he remembered the unwisdom of drinking four glasses of
whisky and then changing irresponsibly to beer. He had not undressed,
it would seem, and he was lying across the middle of a bed with his
spurred boots hanging over the edge. A red comforter had been thrown
across him, and he wondered why. He looked around the room and
discovered Mr. Dill seated in a large, cane rocker--which was