papers
after the almost universal metropolitan custom. Two or three arose to
offer their seats, among them Orde. When, however, the latter had turned
to indicate to one of the women the vacated seat, he discovered it
occupied by a chubby and flashily dressed youth of the sort common
enough in the vicinity of Fourteenth Street; impudent of eye, cynical of
demeanour, and slightly contemptuous of everything unaccustomed. He had
slipped in back of Orde when that young man arose, whether under
the impression that Orde was about to get off the car or from sheer
impudence, it would be impossible to say.

Orde stared at him, a little astonished.

"I intended that seat for this lady," said Orde, touching him on the
shoulder.

The youth looked up coolly.

"You don't come that!" said he.

Orde wasted no time in discussion, which no doubt saved the necessity of
a more serious disturbance. He reached over suddenly, seized the
youth by the collar, braced his knee against the seat, and heaved the
interloper so rapidly to his feet that he all but plunged forward among
the passengers sitting opposite.

"Your seat, madam," said Orde.

The woman, frightened, unwilling to become the participant of a scene
of any sort, stood looking here and there. Orde, comprehending her
embarrassment, twisted his antagonist about, and, before he could
recover his equilibrium sufficiently to offer resistance, propelled him
rapidly to the open door, the passengers hastily making way for them.

"Now, my friend," said Orde, releasing his hold on the other's collar,
"don't do such things any more. They aren't nice."

Trivial as the incident was, it served to draw Orde to the particular
notice of an elderly man leaning against the rear rail. He was a very
well-groomed man, dressed in garments whose fit was evidently the
product of the highest art, well buttoned up, well brushed, well cared
for in every way. In his buttonhole he wore a pink carnation, and in his
gloved hand he carried a straight, gold-headed cane. A silk hat covered
his head, from beneath which showed a slightly empurpled countenance,
with bushy white eyebrows, a white moustache, and a pair of rather
bloodshot, but kindly, blue eyes. In spite of his somewhat pudgy
rotundity, he carried himself quite erect, in a manner that bespoke the
retired military man.

"You have courage, sir," said this gentleman, inclining his bead gravely
to Orde.

The young man laughed in his good-humoure