on I'll talk with you about it," and anxious to
be rid of them he told his driver "Idlers'," and jumped into his
automobile.

Agnes! That surely was giving him a solar-plexus blow! Why, what did
the governor mean? It was putting him very much in a kindergarten
position with the girl before whom he wanted to make a better
impression than before anybody else in all the world.

It took him a long time to readjust himself to this cataclysm.

After all, though, was not his father right in this, as he had been in
everything else? Humbly Bobby was ready to confess that Agnes had more
brains and good common sense than anybody, and was altogether about
the most loyal and dependable person in all the world, with the single
and sole exception of allowing that splendid looking and unknown chap
to hang around her so. They were in the congested down-town district
now, and as they came to a dead stop at a crossing, Bobby, though
immersed in thought, became aware of a short, thick-set man, who,
standing at the very edge of the car, was apparently trying to stare
him out of countenance.

"Why, hello, Biff!" exclaimed Bobby. "Which way?"

"Just waiting for a South Side trolley," explained Biff. "Going over
to see Kid Mills about that lightweight go we're planning."

"Jump in," said Bobby, glad of any change in his altogether indefinite
program. "I'll take you over."

On the way he detailed to his athletic friend what had been done to
him in the way of business.

"I know'd it," said Biff excitedly. "I know'd it from the start.
That's why I got old Trimmer to join my class. Made him a special
price of next to nothing, and got Doc Willets to go around and tell
him he was in Dutch for want of training. Just wait."

"For what?" asked Bobby, smiling.

"Till the next time he comes up," declared Biff vengefully. "Say, do
you know I put that shrimp's hour a-purpose just when there wouldn't
be a soul up there; and the next time I get him in front of me I'm
going to let a few slip that'll jar him from the cellar to the attic;
and the next time anybody sees him he'll be nothing but splints and
court-plaster."

"Biff," said Bobby severely, "you'll do nothing of the kind. You'll
leave one Silas Trimmer to me. Merely bruising his body won't get back
my father's business. Let him alone."

"But look here, Bobby----"

"No; I say let him alone," insisted Bobby.

"All right," said Biff sullenly; "but if you think there's a trick you
can t