straight; tha's a bully good thing to do. Le's do it. Big head on you,
ol' boy," and yawning still, but with unperturbed good nature, Strong
marched, a bit crookedly, arm in arm with his friend to the street.

[Illustration: At every station the conductor and Rex had to reason
with him]

Rex's memory of the trip uptown on the Elevated was like an evil dream.
Strong, after his nap, was as a giant refreshed, and his play of wit
knew no contracting limits. There were, luckily, not many passengers
going up at this hour, but the dozen or so on the car were regaled.
Billy selected a seat on the floor with his broad back planted against
the door, and at every station the conductor and Rex had to reason with
him at length before the door could be opened. The official threatened
as well as he could for laughing to put him off, but he threatened less
strenuously for the sight of six feet two of muscle in magnificently fit
condition. This lasted for half a dozen stations and then the patient
began to play like a mountainous kitten. He took a strap on either side
of the car and turned somersaults; he did traveling ring work with them;
he gave a standing broad jump that would have been creditable on an
athletic field; he had his audience screaming with laughter at an
imitation of water polo over the back of a seat. Then, just as the fun
was at an almost impossible point, and the conductor, highly entertained
but worried, was considering how to get this chap arrested, Billy walked
up to him with charming friendliness and shook hands.

"One th' besh track meets I've ever had pleasure attendin', sir," he
said genially, and sat down and relapsed into grave dignity.

So he remained for five minutes, to the trembling joy of his exhausted