ave to do one or another to be in with that set. And it's got to be a
Johnny-on-the-spot with Bertram. All is, something will have to be done
to get him out of the state of mind and body he's in now, or--"

Arkwright wheeled sharply.

"When did you say this jamboree was going to be?" he demanded.

"Next week, some time. The date is not settled. They were going to
consult you."

"Hm-m," commented Arkwright. And, though his next remark was a complete
change of subject, Calderwell gave a contented sigh.

If, when the proposition was first made to him, Arkwright was doubtful
of his ability to be a successful "Johnny-on-the-spot," he was even more
doubtful of it as the days passed, and he was attempting to carry out
the suggestion.

He had known that he was undertaking a most difficult and delicate task,
and he soon began to fear that it was an impossible one, as well. With
a dogged persistence, however, he adhered to his purpose, ever on the
alert to be more watchful, more tactful, more efficient in emergencies.

Disagreeable as was the task, in a way, in another way it was a great
pleasure to him. He was glad of the opportunity to do anything for
Billy; and then, too, he was glad of something absorbing enough to take
his mind off his own affairs. He told himself, sometimes, that this
helping another man to fight his tiger skin was assisting himself to
fight his own.

Arkwright was trying very hard not to think of Alice Greggory these
days. He had come back hoping that he was in a measure "cured" of his
"folly," as he termed it; but the first look into Alice Greggory's
blue-gray eyes had taught him the fallacy of that idea. In that very
first meeting with Alice, he feared that he had revealed his secret, for
she was plainly so nervously distant and ill at ease with him that he
could but construe her embarrassment and chilly dignity as pity for him
and a desire to show him that she had nothing but friendship for him.
Since then he had seen but little of her, partly because he did not wish
to see her, and partly because his time was so fully occupied. Then,
too, in a round-about way he had heard a rumor that Calderwell was
engaged to be married; and, though no feminine name had been mentioned
in connection with the story, Arkwright had not hesitated to supply in
his own mind that of Alice Greggory.

Beginning with the "jamboree," which came off quite in accordance with
Calderwell's prophecies, Arkwright spent the