CHAPTER VI.


On his native asphalt there are few situations capable of throwing the
New York policeman off his balance. In that favored clime, _savoir
faire_ is represented by a shrewd left hook at the jaw, and a masterful
stroke of the truncheon amounts to a satisfactory repartee. Thus shall
you never take the policeman of Manhattan without his answer. In other
surroundings, Mr. Patrick McEachern would have known how to deal with
his young acquaintance, Mr. Jimmy Pitt. But another plan of action was
needed here. First of all, the hints on etiquette with which Lady Jane
had favored him, from time to time, and foremost came the mandate:
"Never make a scene." Scenes, Lady Jane had explained--on the occasion
of his knocking down an objectionable cabman during their honeymoon
trip--were of all things what polite society most resolutely abhorred.
The natural man in him must be bound in chains. The sturdy blow must
give way to the honeyed word. A cold "Really!" was the most vigorous
retort that the best circles would countenance.

It had cost Mr. McEachern some pains to learn this lesson, but he had
done it; and he proceeded on the present occasion to conduct himself
high and disposedly, according to instructions from headquarters.

The surprise of finding an old acquaintance in this company rendered
him dumb for a brief space, during which Jimmy looked after the
conversation.

"How do you do, Mr. McEachern?" inquired Jimmy genially. "Quite a