rough-house a milk wagon."

"But how do you do it?" she asked breathlessly. "Why are men so
afraid of you? You're just wonderful."

He smiled in an embarrassed way and changed the subject.

"Say," he said, "I like your teeth. They're so white an' regular,
an' not big, an' not dinky little baby's teeth either. They're
. . . they're just right, an' they fit you. I never seen such fine
teeth on a girl yet. D'ye know, honest, they kind of make me
hungry when I look at 'em. They're good enough to eat."

At midnight, leaving the insatiable Bert and Mary still dancing,
Billy and Saxon started for home. It was on his suggestion that
they left early, and he felt called upon to explain.

"It's one thing the fightin' game's taught me," he said. "To take
care of myself. A fellow can't work all day and dance all night
and keep in condition. It's the same way with drinkin'--an' not
that I'm a little tin angel. I know what it is. I've been soused
to the guards an' all the rest of it. I like my beer--big
schooners of it; but I don't drink all I want of it. I've tried,
but it don't pay. Take that big stiff to-night that butted in on
us. He ought to had my number. He's a dog anyway, but besides he
had beer bloat. I sized that up the first rattle, an' that's the
difference about who takes the other fellow's number. Condition,
that's what it is."

"But he is so big," Saxon protested. "Why, his fists are twice as