"Here, you howling idiot; read it!" said Francis.

The idiot took the letter and read:

DEAR MR. BOLAND: I need your help. Mr. Johnson, a friend of
Stanley's--his best friend--is up here from Arizona upon business
of the utmost importance, both to himself and Stanley.

I have only this moment had word that Mr. Johnson is in the most serious
trouble. To be plain, he is in Vesper Jail. There has been foul play,
part and parcel of a conspiracy directed against Stanley. Please come
at once. I claim your promise.

Mary Selden

Ferdie handed it back.

"My friend's friend is my friend? And so on, _ad infinitum_, like fleas
with little fleas to bite 'em--that sort of thing--what? Does that let me
in? I seem to qualify in a small-flealike way."

"You bet you do, old chap! That's the spirit! Do you rush up and present
my profound apologies to the ladies--important business matter. I'll be
getting out the buzz wagon. You shall see Mary Selden. You shall also see
how right well and featly our no-bél and intrepid young hero bore
himself, just a-pitchin' and a-rarin', when inclination jibed with
jooty!"

Two minutes later they took the curve by the big gate on two wheels. As