handling the gloves. There was a chap in the Bible"--Billy swallowed as
if embarrassed--"who--who was the spit 'n' image of Rex--the good
Samaritan chap, you know. He found a seedy one falling over himself by
the wayside, and he called him a beast and set him up, and took him to a
hotel or something and told the innkeeper to charge it to him, and--I
forget the exact words, but he saw him through, don't you know? And he
did it all in a sporty sort of way and there wasn't a word of whining or
fussing at him because he was loaded--that was awfully white of the
chap. Rex did more than that for me and not a syllable has he peeped
since. And, you know, the consequence of that masterly silence is that
I've gone on the water-wagon--yes, sir--for a year. And I'm hanged if
I'm not going to church every Sunday. He may be a saint as you say, and
I suppose there's no doubt but he's horrid intellectual--every man must
have his weaknesses. But the man that's a good Samaritan and a good
sport all in one, he's my sort, I'm for him," said Billy Strong.