i driver. 'Take him away,' says Chester. 'He's been talking to me
for hours and hours. Take him away.' 'Yes, sir,'says the driver. 'Where
to, sir,' 'Oh, anywhere,' says Chester. 'Take him to--to Worcester.'
'Right,' says the driver, loadin' in his fare."

"But--but of course he didn't really take him all that distance?" puts
in Betty.

"Uh-huh!" says I. "That's what I thought was so rich. And about 10:30
next mornin' a certain party wakes up in a strange room in a strange
town. He's got a head on him like an observation balloon and a tongue
that feels like a pussycat's back. And when he finally gets down to the
desk he asks the clerk where he is. 'Bancroft House, Worcester, sir,'
says the clerk. 'How odd!' says he. 'But--er--? what is this charge of
$16.85 on my bill?' 'Taxi fare from Boston,' says the clerk. And they
say he paid up like a good sport."

"In such a case," says Mr. Robert "one does."

"Worcester!" says Betty. "That's queer."

"The rough part of it was," I goes on, "that he was due to attend a big
affair in Boston the night before, sort of a reunion of officers who'd
been in the army of occupation--banquet and dance afterward--I think
they call it the Society of the Rhine."

"What!" exclaims Betty.

"Oh, I say!" gasps Nicky. Then they look at each other queer.

I could see that I'd made some kind of a break but I couldn't figure out
just what it was. "Anyway," says I, "he didn't get there. He got to
Worcester instead. Course, though, you don't have to believe all you
hear at a club."

"If only one could," says Betty.

And it wasn't until after dinner that I got a slant on this remark of
hers.

"Torchy," says she, "where is Mr. Wells?"

"Why," says I, "I saw him drift out on the terrace a minute ago."

"Alone?" says she.

I nods.

"Then take me out to him, will you?" she asks.

"Sure thing," says I.

And she puts it up to him straight when we get him cornered. "Was that
the real reason why you were in Worcester?" she demands.

"I'm sorry," says he, hangin' his head, "but it must have been."

"Then, why didn't you say so, you silly boy!" she asks.

"How could I, Betty?" says he. "You see, I hadn't heard the rest of the
story until just now."

"Oh, Nicky!" says she.

And the next thing I knew they'd gone to a clinch, which I takes as my
cue to slide back into the house. Half an hour later they shows up
smilin' and tells us all about it.

As we're leavin' for home Mr. Robert gets