th me. You tell
him that----"

A harsh cough came echoing down the stairs and a voice called:

"That you, Dade? Come right up. It's all right, Mrs. Conway; let him
come, please."

Herbert, in silk pajamas, was standing at the head of the stairs,
looking ill indeed. He put out a limp hand, which Newbert grasped,
crying:

"By Jove! you are sick. Now, that's tough."

"Come into my room," invited Herbert, leading the way. "It's a pretty
bum joint, but it's the best in the house--the best I could find in
this wretched hole of a town. I'm mighty glad to see you, old pal,
though I may not appear to be. Oh, blazes! but I have got a headache!"

"What have you been doing?" asked the visitor, as Herbert keeled over,
with a groan, on the bed. "Been hitting the pace? Been attending too
many hot suppers? Oh, but you're sure to sport wherever you go!"

"Hitting the pace around this graveyard!" mumbled Herbert dismally.
"What are you talking about, old fel? Why, everybody dies here nights
at nine o'clock; there's not a thing doing after that. It's the most
forsaken, dismal place imaginable after that hour. I'm dying of dry
rot, that's what's the matter." He finished with a cough that seemed
to wrack him from head to feet.

"You're sick," said Newbert, with a show of sympathy. "You've got a
cold, and it has settled on your lungs. You're none too strong, Herb,
and you'd better look out. I guess you won't be able to take in the
game to-day."

"Yes, I will!" cried Rackliff suddenly. "I wouldn't miss it for a
fortune. Oh, I've got money bet on that game, Dade."

"Well, Orv Foxhall is outside with old man Foxhall's bubble. Great
car, that. And you should see Orv drive her. Oh, he does cut it out
some! He had 'em staring when he ripped up through the center of this
old town. We nearly ran a team down back on the road; was going better
than fifty when we came round a curve and grazed the old jay's
wheel-hubs. I'll bet that Reuben's hair stood on its hind legs. Ho!
ho! ho!"

Herbert sat up. "It won't take me long to dress," he said. "I'll go
back to Wyndham with you."

"You haven't had any breakfast."

"Don't want any. Haven't had an appetite for three days. I caught
this rotten cold riding a motorcycle back here from Clearport after the
game last Saturday. I wouldn't mind if this cough didn't tear me so."

"It's tough," said Newbert. "Can I help you? Going to take a dip?"

"Boo! No, I won'