you had amber eyes--such beautiful eyes--the
hero-eyes of my dreams!"

"My dear child, you certainly were dreaming."

"Oh, no! I saw them! My heart jumped so! I knew you--I knew you--and
your eyes were amber!"

Sampey smiled sadly and a little complacently, and with great modesty
said:

"I can't doubt you, my dear child, but I assure you that I was
unconscious of my amber eyes. I wish that I could feel at liberty to
confess to you that lately I have had strange whisperings of heroism in
my soul--but that would be boasting, and true heroism is always modest.
Still, I ought not to be surprised that you discovered the actual
presence before I was aware even of its existence; but such, indeed, my
dear, is the peculiarity of the true hero--he is ever unaware of his
own heroism." He took her hand languishingly and squeezed it. She
blushed and fled.

Signor Castellani, besides being wealthy, was a man of business. His
daughter should marry a man who had money sufficient to insure his
worth. With perspicacity rare in a man, he had observed that the two
singular men of this narrative admired his daughter. Now, Bat, being a
freak, was making money rapidly, while Sampey was only a poor literary
bureau! Castellani felt the need of a partner. Why should not a partner
be a son-in-law? Surely Bat was much more desirable than Sampey!

Sampey was wise and Bat was foolish. On the other hand, Bat was
courageous and Sampey was timid. Bat had the courage of a brute. Sampey
knew that there were certain ways of frightening brave brutes--he had
even seen a prize-fighter join a church. He prepared for Bat.

One day he entered the museum between exhibitions and sought the Wild
Man of Milo. That worthy was leisurely smoking a cigarette in a quiet
corner, and was making the smoke curl up gracefully over the hairy tuft
on his nose. Sampey was paler than usual and a little nervous, for the
business of his visit was tinged with hazard. Bat, who happened to feel
good-natured, gave the first greeting.

"Hey!" he called out.

Sampey went straight to him.

"You lika da show, ha, Samp? You come effery day. Gooda place, ha,
Samp?"

"A very good place, Bat," quietly answered Sampey, who tried hard to
appear indifferent as he fumbled nervously in his pocket.

"Signor Castellani, he biga mon, reecha mon, gooda mon. You like 'im?"

"Very much." Sampey was acting strangely.

Bat's eyes twinkled a little dangerously.

"You lika da gal, too, h