trifle--well, not precisely _risky_, but perhaps a shade _broad_
in his humour."

"His what?" said Billy Windsor.

"Mr. Asher is a very sensible man, and he will be the first to
acknowledge that his sense of humour has led him just a little
beyond the bounds. You understand? Well, that is all, I think. Now
I must really be going, or I shall miss my train. Good-bye, Mr.
Windsor."

"Good-bye," said the sub-editor thankfully.

At the door Mr. Wilberfloss paused with the air of an exile bidding
farewell to his native land, sighed, and trotted out.

Billy Windsor put his feet upon the table, and with a deep scowl
resumed his task of reading the proofs of Luella Granville
Waterman's "Moments in the Nursery."



CHAPTER II

BILLY WINDSOR

Billy Windsor had started life twenty-five years before this story
opens on his father's ranch in Wyoming. From there he had gone to a
local paper of the type whose Society column consists of such items
as "Pawnee Jim Williams was to town yesterday with a bunch of other