"It cost me five thousand dollars to pay for the damage those boys
did. They threatened to jail Bob, but of course I couldn't allow
that."

"I remember. That was five years ago, and Bob hasn't changed a
whit. I think he's a menace to society."

Wharton laughed, but his reply was lost in the clamorous demand
for an encore by Mlle. Demorest.

"So he gets his devilment from you, eh?" Merkle inquired.

"It isn't devilment. Bob's all right. He's running with a fast
crowd, and he has to keep up his end."

"Bah! He hasn't been sober in a year."

"You're a dyspeptic, John. You were born with a gray beard, and
you're not growing younger. He wanted to come to this party, but--
I didn't care to have him for obvious reasons, so I told Hammon to
refuse him even if he asked. He bet me a thousand dollars that
he'd come anyhow, and I've been expecting him to overpower those
doormen or creep up the fire-escape."

The hand-clapping ceased as the dancer reappeared, smiling and
bowing.

"I will dance again if you wish," she announced, in perfect
English, "introducing my new partner, Mr.--" she glanced into the