-_bom_-i-_na_-bell-_bum_-bell-bee-with his-tail-cut-_off_," and
Rita took her seat, filled with triumph, save for the one regret that
Dic had not won.

Many of the old folks, including Billy Little, departed when the bee
closed, and a general clamor went up for the kissing games to begin.

Rita declined to take part in the kissing games, and sat against the
wall with several other young ladies who had no partners. To Dic she
gave the candid reason that she did not want to play, and he was glad.

Doug Hill, who, in common with every other young man on the premises,
ardently desired Rita's presence in the game, said:--

"Oh, come in, Rita. Don't be so stuck up. It won't hurt you to be
kissed." Doug was a bold, devil-may-care youth, who spoke his mind
freely upon all occasions. He was of enormous size, and gloried in the
fact that he was the neighborhood bully and very, very "tough." Doug
would have you know that Doug would drink; Doug would gamble; Doug would
fight. He tried to create the impression that he was very bad indeed,
and succeeded. He would go to town Saturdays, "fill up," as he called
getting drunk, and would ride furiously miles out of his way going home
that he might pass the houses of his many lady-loves, and show them by
yells and oaths what a rollicking blade he was. The reputation thus
acquired won him many a smile; for, deplore the fact as we may, there's
a drop of savage blood still alive in the feminine heart that does not
despise depravity in man as it really should.

"Come into the game," cried Doug, taking Rita by the arm, and dragging
her toward the centre of the room.

"I don't want to play," cried the girl. "Please let loose of my arms;
you hurt me," but Doug continued to drag her toward the ring of players
that was forming, and she continued to resist. Doug persisted, and after
a moment of struggling she called out, "Dic, Dic!" She had been
accustomed since childhood to call upon that name in time of trouble,
and had always found help. Dic would not have interfered had not Rita
called, but when she did he responded at once.

"Let her alone, Hill," said Dic, as pleasantly as possible under the
circumstances. "If she doesn't want to play, she doesn't have to."

"You go to--" cried Doug. "Maybe you think you can run over me, you
stuck-up Mr. Proper."

"I don't want to do anything of the sort," answered Dic; "but if you
don't let loose of Rita's arm, I'll--"

"What will you do?" asked Do