about his suite.

The sight that met his eyes when he opened the door did nothing to
soothe him. The floor was a sea of clothes. There were coats on the
chairs, trousers on the bed, shirts on the bookshelf. And in the middle
of his welter stood Archie, with a man who, to Mr. Brewster's heated
eye, looked like a tramp comedian out of a burlesque show.

"Great Godfrey!" ejaculated Mr. Brewster.

Archie looked up with a friendly smile.

"Oh, halloa-halloa!" he said, affably, "We were just glancing through
your spare scenery to see if we couldn't find something for my pal here.
This is Mr. Brewster, my father-in-law, old man."

Archie scanned his relative's twisted features. Something in his
expression seemed not altogether encouraging. He decided that the
negotiations had better be conducted in private. "One moment, old lad,"
he said to his new friend. "I just want to have a little talk with my
father-in-law in the other room. Just a little friendly business chat.
You stay here."

In the other room Mr. Brewster turned on Archie like a wounded lion of
the desert.

"What the--!"

Archie secured one of his coat-buttons and began to massage it
affectionately.

"Ought to have explained!" said Archie, "only didn't want to interrupt
your lunch. The sportsman on the horizon is a dear old pal of mine--"

Mr. Brewster wrenched himself free.

"What the devil do you mean, you worm, by bringing tramps into my
bedroom and messing about with my clothes?"

"That's just what I'm trying to explain, if you'll only listen. This
bird is a bird I met in France during the war. He gave me a bit of
sausage outside St. Mihiel--"

"Damn you and him and the sausage!"

"Absolutely. But listen. He can't remember who he is or where he was
born or what his name is, and he's broke; so, dash it, I must look after
him. You see, he gave me a bit of sausage."

Mr. Brewster's frenzy gave way to an ominous calm.

"I'll give him two seconds to clear out of here. If he isn't gone by
then I'll have him thrown out."

Archie was shocked.

"You don't mean that?"

"I do mean that."

"But where is he to go?"

"Outside."

"But you don't understand. This chappie has lost his memory because he
was wounded in the war. Keep that fact firmly fixed in the old bean. He
fought for you. Fought and bled for you. Bled profusely, by Jove. AND he
saved my life!"

"If I'd got nothing else against him, that would be enough."

"But you can't sling a ch