"Excuse my right," said he, displaying a swollen hand criss-
crossed with surgeon's plaster. "A fellow got noisy last night."
"D'jou hit him?" queried Higgins, gazing with interest at the
proprietor's knuckles.
"Yes. I swung for his jaw and went high. Teeth--" Mr. Padden said,
vaguely. He turned a shrewd eye upon Anthony. "I heard about the
game to-day. That was all right."
Kirk grinned boyishly. "I didn't have much to do with it; these
are the fellows."
"Don't believe him," interrupted Ringold.
"Sure! he's too modest," Higgins chimed in. "Fine fellow an' all
that, understand, but he's got two faults--he's modest and he's
lazy. He's caused a lot of uneasiness to his father and me.
Father's a fine man, too." He nodded his long, narrow head
solemnly.
"We know who did the trick for us," added Anderson, the straw-
haired half-back.
"Glad you dropped in," Mr. Padden assured them. "Anything you boys
want and can't get, let me know."
When he had gone Higgins averred: "There's a fine man--peaceful,
refined--got a lovely character, too. Let's be gentlemen while
we're in his place."
Ringold rose. "I'm going to dance, fellows," he announced, and his
companions followed him, with the exception of the cadaverous
Higgins, who maintained that dancing was a pastime for the
frivolous and weak.
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