ve, I must have dozed off, for
the first thing I knew some one yelled my name, and I looked up to
see--Billings!

He was looking a bit soiled and disheveled, and his eyes had a hunted
look.

"What the devil are you doing, sitting here?" he demanded.

"I--I'm going," I said, hurriedly getting to my feet. "Just
resting--I--"

"They told me I would find you here," he said. "Here you are, sitting
out here in the hot sun without any hat! Good thing, Dicky, you haven't
got any--h'm!" Then he panted at me: "Say, nice way you and my sister
treated me--I don't _think_! But I'll forgive you this time." Here he
linked his arm in mine. "I'll forgive you, if you never say anything at
the club about those damned black pajamas--nor in the family, either.
Great Scott! I wouldn't have this get out!"

"I wouldn't think of such a thing!" I exclaimed, immeasurably relieved,
but indignant, as well. He led me across the turf.

"Oh, I've had an awful time, Dicky! Awful!"--he lifted his hands--"Oh, I
don't want to tell you about it--I don't want even to think about it
myself!"

I murmured something sympathetic, for I _felt_ sympathetic with
anything; besides, there still lingered a bit of headache from the
Heidelberg punch and I could imagine from that what _his_ feelings must
have been.

"By George, Dicky," he burst out again, "the way I've been shut up and
treated just seems like some infernal conspiracy. Good thing Jack
Ellsworth's dad had a pull with the mayor--tell you all the whole rotten
business when I can talk about it quietly."

"That's right! that's right!" I said soothingly, "wouldn't think about
it at all now, old chap!" No use reminding him, you know, that he had
shut _himself_ up. Besides, the wandering of the mind to Jack Ellsworth
and his father showed me that even yet he was not quite himself.

Billings mopped his forehead. "My, but it was hot in that hole!" he
exclaimed. "And that reminds me--have you seen the governor this
morning? No? Well, talk about hot! _George_, but the old man was hot
under the collar when I saw him just now! And he looks like he had been
dropped from a shot tower! It's this case he's working on, I guess, or
else it's about Francis. He's found out what _I_ knew."

"Do--do you think so?" I questioned nervously.

"Pretty sure," said Billings carelessly. "Fact is, he's already fixing
up to send Francis to some kind of reformatory--heard him making the
arrangements over the 'phone"--I was