door! Sanford's coming."

A step was heard in the hall, a cheery voice spoke to Ferdinand
as he took his master's coat and hat and then a big man entered
the living-room.

"Hello, girls," he said, gaily; "how's things?"

He kissed Eunice, shook Aunt Abby's hand and dropped into an easy
chair.

"Things are whizzing," he said, as he took the cup Eunice poured
for him. "I've just come from the Club, and our outlook is
rosy-posy. Old Hendricks is going to get, badly left."

"It's all safe for you, then, is it?" and Eunice smiled radiantly
at her husband.

"Right as rain! The prize-fights did it! They upset old
Hendrick's apple-cart and spilled his beans. Lots of them object
to the fights because of the expense--fighters are a high-priced
bunch--but I'm down on them because I think it bad form--"

"I should say so!" put in Eunice, emphatically.

"Bad form for an Athletic Club of gentlemen to have brutal
exhibitions for their entertainment."

"And what about the Motion-Picture Theatre?"