says, "that I am about as popular in
Film City as a cloudburst at a picnic! I am snubbed, ridiculed,
vulgarly and subtly insulted! Also I am white and human and--ah--I
must confess it has penetrated my skin. _You_ are particularly bitter
against me--why?"

The Kid studies him for a minute.

"Listen!" he answers finally. "Are you on the level with this? D'ye
really wanna know, or are you simply askin' me so's you can pull one of
them witty remarks on the way I answer you--_and get walloped on the
beak_?"

Van Ness did somethin' then I never seen him do before and only once
afterward. _He grinned_! The Roman toga fell off his shoulders, and
he leans over with his hands on his hips. On the level, his whole face
seemed to change! And then--

Oh, boy!

"Listen, guy!" pipes this big, dignified whatnot. "I'm on the level,
all right and I want the lowdown on this thing, d'ye make me?" (Me and
the Kid nearly went dead on our feet listenin'.) "As for wallopin' me
on the beak, well--you may be welterweight champion out here, but if
you start anything with _me_, I'll remove you from the title, d'ye get
that?"

Woof!

The Kid and me falls back against a rock, fightin' for air!

"Oh, Lady!" whispers the Kid, fannin' himself with his hat. "Did you
hear what I did?"

"Call me at seven!" I gasps.

"Well--?" drawls Van Ness, lookin' us over.

"They's just one thing I'd like to know," murmurs the Kid, wipin' his
forehead with my handkerchief in the excitement. "What part of dear
old England was _you_ born in?"

Van Ness grins some more.

"Brooklyn!" he says, jerkin' out the eye glass again and stickin' it on
his eye. "Surely, my man," he goes on, with that old silly stare of
his; "surely you have heard of jolly old Brooklyn--what?"

"I know it well!" says the Kid. "It's on the wrong end of the bridge!
But where d'ye get the 'my man' thing? And what have you been goin'
around like a Swiss duke or somethin', when it turns out you're only a
roughneck from Brooklyn? You wanna know why you don't belong, and
don't fit in here, eh? Well, you big hick, where d'ye get that Sedate
Sam stuff?" He slaps Van Ness on the arm. "Why in the Hail Columbia
don't you bust out and giggle now and then, hey?"

"Why don't I?" snarls Van Ness, "Don't you think I'd _like_ to? Don't
you think I would if I could, you boob?"

"Would if you _could_?" repeats the Kid. "What's the matter--have you
got lockjaw?"

"No!" roa