"A goodly array!" murmured the Hon. Sam.

A crowd of small boys gathered at the fence below, and I observed the
Hon. Sam's pockets bulging with peanuts.

"Largesse!" I suggested.

"Good!" he said, and rising he shouted:

"Largessy! largessy!" scattering peanuts by the handful among the
scrambling urchins.

Down wound the knights behind the back stand of the base-ball field, and
then, single file, in front of the nobles and ladies, before whom they
drew up and faced, saluting with inverted spears.

The Hon. Sam arose--his truncheon a hickory stick--and in a stentorian
voice asked the names of the doughty knights who were there to win glory
for themselves and the favor of fair women.

Not all will be mentioned, but among them was the Knight of the
Holston--Athelstanic in build--in black stockings, white negligee shirt,
with Byronic collar, and a broad crimson sash tied with a bow at his
right side. There was the Knight of the Green Valley, in green and gold,
a green hat with a long white plume, lace ruffles at his sleeves, and
buckles on dancing-pumps; a bonny fat knight of Maxwelton Braes, in
Highland kilts and a plaid; and the Knight at Large.

"He ought to be caged," murmured the Hon. Sam; for the Knight at Large
wore plum-colored velvet, red base-ball stockings, held in place with
safety-pins, white tennis shoes, and a very small hat with a very long
plume, and the dye was already streaking his face. Marston was the
last--sitting easily on his iron gray.

"And your name, Sir Knight?"

"The Discarded," said Marston, with steady eyes. I felt the Blight start
at my side and sidewise I saw that her face was crimson.

The Hon. Sam sat down, muttering, for he did not like Marston:

"Wenchless springal!"

Just then my attention was riveted on Mollie and little Buck. Both had
been staring silently at the knights as though they were apparitions,
but when Marston faced them I saw Buck clutch his sister's arm suddenly
and say something excitedly in her ear. Then the mouths of both
tightened fiercely and their eyes seemed to be darting lightning at the
unconscious knight, who suddenly saw them, recognized them, and smiled
past them at me. Again Buck whispered, and from his lips I could make
out what he said:

"I wonder whar's Dave?" but Mollie did not answer.

"Which is yours, Mr. Budd?" asked the little sister. The Hon. Sam had
leaned back with his thumbs in the arm-holes of his white waistcoat.

"He ain't c