"Recky," he bubbled, "good old Recky--bes' fren' ev' had--I'm drunk, Recky--too bad. We're both drunk. Take's home." Rex glanced at his cousin in dismay, and Strong repeated his invitation cordially. "Take's home, Recky," he insisted, with the easy air of a man who confers an honor. "'S up to you, Recky." Rex looked at his frowning cousin doubtfully, pleadingly. "It almost seems as if it was, doesn't it, Carty?" he said. "We can't leave them like this." "I don't see why we can't--I can," Reed asserted. "It's none of our business, Rex, and we really haven't time to palaver. Come along." [Illustration: "Recky," he bubbled, "good old Recky--bes' fren' ev' had"] The gentle soul of Rex Fairfax was surprisingly firm. "Carty, they'd be arrested in five minutes," he reasoned. "It's a wonder they haven't been already. And Billy's people--it would break their hearts. I know some of them well, you see. I was with him only last week over in Orange." "Oh!" Reed groaned. "That Girl from Orange again." He opened his lips once more to launch nervous English against this quixotism, but Strong interposed. "'S all true," he solemnly stated, fixing his eyes rollingly on Reed. "Got Orange-colored cousin what break Recky's heart if don't take's home. Y'see--y'see--" The President of these United States in a cabinet council would have stopped to listen to him, so freighted with great facts coming was his confidential manner. "Y'see--wouldn't tell ev'body--only you," and he laid a mighty hand on Reed's shoulder. "I'm so drunk. Awful pity--too bad," and he sighed deeply. "Now, Recky, ol' man, take's home." "Who's your friend, Billy?" Rex inquired, disregarding this appeal. Billy burst into a shout of laughter which Fairfax promptly clipped by putting his hand over the big man's mouth. "He's bes' joke yet," Strong remarked through Rex's fingers. "He's go'n' kill himself," and he kissed the restraining hand gallantly. The two sober citizens turned and stared at the gentlemen. He looked it. He looked as if there could be no step deeper into the gloom which enveloped him, except suicide. He nodded darkly as the two regarded him. "Uh-huh. Life's failure. Lost cuff-button. Won't live to be indecent. Go'n' kill m'self soon's this dizhiness goesh pasht. Billy's drunk, but I'm subject to--to dizhiness." Rex turned to his cousin with a gesture. "You see, Carty, we can't leave them. I'm just as disappointed as you are, but it would be a beastly thing to do, to let them get pulled in as common drunks. What's your friend's name?" he demanded again of Strong. [Illustration: "Who's your friend, Billy?"] "Got lovely name," he averred eagerly. "Good ol' moth-eaten name. Name's Schuyler VanCourtlandt Van de Water--ain't it Schuylie--ain't that your name--or's that mine? I--I f'rget lil' things," he said in an explanatory manner.