coffee and said they enjoyed the food tremendously.

Graydon Bansemer was new to this attitude. He was vigorous and he
was not surfeited with food; he had an appetite. Just before six
o'clock his host called him up by 'phone, and, in a most genial
way, advised him to eat a hearty meal before coming up to dinner.
Graydon made the mistake of not following this surprising bit of
advice.

He sat next to Mrs. Percival. She appeared agitated and uncertain.
Servants came in with the dishes and almost immediately took them
away again. No one touched a mouthful of the food; no one except
Graydon noticed the celerity with which the plates and their contents
were removed; no one felt that he was expected to eat. Graydon,
after his first attempt to really eat of the third course, subsided
with a look of amazement at his hostess. She smiled and whispered
something into his ear. He grew very red and choked with--was it
confusion or mirth?

Everybody gulped black coffee and everybody puffed violently at
cigars and cigarettes and then everybody bolted for the card tables.

Jack Percival grasped Graydon's arm and drew him back into the
dining-room. He was grinning like an ape.

"It worked, by George--worked like a charm. Great Scott, what a
money and time saver! I was a little worried about you, Bansemer,
but I knew the others wouldn't catch on. Great, wasn't it?"

"What the dickens does it mean?" demanded Graydon. "Mean! Why, good