Almost on the point of turning the knob, prudence bade Bob to pause. Suppose he made a mistake? Suppose, for example, he stumbled upon Gee-gee’s room, or Gid-up’s? The perspiration started on Bob’s brow. Gee-gee would be quite capable of hanging on to him and then raising a row, just for publicity purposes. She would make “copy” out of anything, that girl would. Then, if it wasn’t Gee-gee’s room, it might be Mrs. Van’s. Fancy his invading the privacy of that austere lady’s boudoir! Bob’s hand shook slightly and the knob rattled a trifle; he hastily released it. To his horror a voice called out. “Any one there?” It was Gee-gee. Bob stood still, not daring to stir, lest Gee-gee, with senses alert, should hear him and come out and find him. He prayed devoutly not to be “found.” It was bad enough to be crazy, and to be a social buccaneer, without having Miss Gerald look upon him as an intrigant, a Don Juan and a Jonathan Wild all rolled into one. Bob wanted to flee the worst way, but still he thought it better to contain himself and stand there like a wooden man a few moments longer. “Any one there?” repeated Gee-gee. A neighboring door opened and one of the last men Bob wanted to see, under the circumstances, looked out. It was the hammer-thrower and his honest face expressed a world of wonder, incredulity and reproach, as he beheld and recognized Bob, who didn’t know what to do, or to say. He certainly didn’t want to say anything though, having no desire to agitate Miss Gee-gee any further. Fortunately, the hammer-thrower seemed too amazed for words. He just kept looking and looking. “Where on earth did you come from?” his glance seemed to say. “Are you the ghost of Bob Bennett? And if you aren’t, what are you doing here, before a lady’s door, at this time of night?” Disapproval now became mixed with indecision in the hammer-thrower’s glance. He seemed trying to make up his mind whether or not it was a case demanding forcible measures on his part. Was it his duty to spring upon Bob, then and there, and “show him up” before the world? Bob read the thought. In another moment Gee-gee might come to the door, and then—? Bob suddenly and desperately determined to throw himself upon the mercy of the hammer-thrower. Indeed, he had no choice. Quickly he moved to the door where his hated rival stood and as quickly pushed by him and entered that person’s room. At the same moment Gee-gee unlocked her door. Bob couldn’t see her, though, as he was now thankfully swallowed up in the depths of a recess in the hammer-thrower’s room. Gee-gee peeked out. She met the eye of the hammer-thrower who had modestly withdrawn most of his person back into his apartment and who now suffered only a fraction of his face to be revealed to Gee-gee at that unseemly hour and place, and under such unseemly circumstances. “I beg your pardon,” said the hammer-thrower deferentially, and in a very low tone, “but did you call out?” “Yes, I thought I heard some one at my door.”