y.
After all, there are more ways of killing a cat than by drowning the
animal in champagne--and David was a tender shoot as yet.

Johnson Boller flexed his muscles and examined his smile in the mirror.
It was a broad, genial expression, all warm and friendly; and without
permitting one of its curves to slip from place he strode down the
corridor and threw open the door of David Prentiss's chamber.

Hunched up in his big bathrobe, the boy was sitting on the edge of the
bed, while Anthony stood across the room with his back wisely to the
light. It was entirely plain that the trouble had gone up in smoke and
that the presumably angry interview had flattened out to a love feast;
David had not been and, so far as concerned Anthony, would not be
ejected--yet instead of protesting Johnson Boller said jovially:

"Licked him into shape, eh?"

"Ah--David has explained," Anthony managed.

"Got the trouble all smoothed over, eh?"

"Yes."

Johnson Boller laughed mightily and winked at David. Further, he stepped
over and slapped David's back--no mere friendly tap, but a whack that
nearly sent him from the bed.

"Who was the squab, kid?" he cried. "Who----"

"Don't hit him like that!" Anthony gasped.

"What?"

"The boy----"

"Tap like that won't hurt him!" Johnson Boller chuckled as David,
suppressing a shriek, managed to grip the bed and regain his balance.
"Who was the Gallic chicken, my lad?"

"A--a friend of mine," David said weakly.

"I betcher!" said Johnson Boller significantly. "I got a line on her the
second I laid eyes on her, kid. Now, I want to tell you something.
You're a young sport and these things look different to you now, but the
long and the short of a dizzy little----"

"Johnson!" Anthony broke in.

"What now?"

"It--it is not necessary to advise David," said David's captor, quite
thickly, for he was familiar with Johnson Boller's views on many
subjects and his manner of airing them. "The boy has--er--explained
the--ah--young woman and----"

He could get no farther. Johnson Boller eyed him with an amused and
quizzical grin.

"Going to keep this kid with you?"

"For a time, yes."

"You know, you're a funny character, Anthony," Boller mused. "If your
great-grandmother came to this joint to have a cup of tea with you,
you'd want her to stop at the desk and show her pedigree and the family
Bible, just so they'd be sure she was your great-grandmother, and your
lovely reputation wouldn't ha