company, I should ask no more. But with you constantly away,
mingling with the gay throng, it is imperative that I have some
solid man to accompany me in my ramblings hither and thither. It is
possible that Comrade Windsor may possess the qualifications
necessary for the post. But here he comes. Let us foregather with
him and observe him in private life before arriving at any
premature decision."



CHAPTER IV

BAT JARVIS

Billy Windsor lived in a single room on East Fourteenth Street.
Space in New York is valuable, and the average bachelor's
apartments consist of one room with a bathroom opening off it.
During the daytime this one room loses all traces of being used for
sleeping purposes at night. Billy Windsor's room was very much like
a public-school study. Along one wall ran a settee. At night this
became a bed; but in the daytime it was a settee and nothing but a
settee. There was no space for a great deal of furniture. There was
one rocking-chair, two ordinary chairs, a table, a book-stand, a
typewriter--nobody uses pens in New York--and on the walls a mixed
collection of photographs, drawings, knives, and skins, relics of
their owner's prairie days. Over the door was the head of a young
bear.

Billy's first act on arriving in this sanctum was to release the
cat, which, having moved restlessly about for some moments, finally