"This isn't like Jerry. He's a fine athlete and a good sportsman--for the fun he gets out of the thing. But he has too good a mind not to be above the personal vulgarity of such an exhibition as this. His finer instincts, his natural modesty, his lack of vanity--everything that we know of the boy contradicts the notion of a personal incentive for this wild plan. Does he know what he's doing--what it means--the publicity--?" "He thinks he's dodging that. Nobody knows him in New York except a few fellows at the clubs, he says." "But has he no consideration for _us_--for _me_?" I cried. "Apparently his friends haven't entered into his calculations." "I repeat, it isn't like him, Jack. Somebody has put this idea into his head." I stopped so abruptly that Ballard regarded me curiously. "Somebody--who?" I paced the floor with long strides, my fingers twitching to get that pretty devil by the throat. I knew now--it had come in a flash of light--Marcia. Jerry listened now to no one but Marcia; but I couldn't tell Jack. "Somebody--somebody at Flynn's," I muttered. He regarded me curiously. "But the boy is immune to flattery. There isn't a vain bone in his body. I confess he puzzles me. But I think you'll find he's quite stubborn about it." "Stubborn, yes, but--" My remark was cut short by a ring of the bell, immediately answered by Ballard's man, and Jerry entered. He was, I think, attired in one of Jack's "Symphonies," wore a blossom in his buttonhole, swung a stick jauntily, and altogether radiated health and good humor, greeting us both in high spirits. "Well, fairy godfathers, what's my gift today?" he laughed. "A golden goose, a magic ring, or a beautiful Cinderella hidden behind the curtain?" and he poked at the portiere playfully. "But you have the appearance of conspirators. Is it only a lecture?" "I've just been telling Roger," Jack began gravely, "about your fight with Clancy, Jerry." I saw the boy's jaw muscles clamp, but he replied very quietly. "Yes, Uncle Jack. He objects, I suppose." "Not object," I said quickly. "It's the wrong word, Jerry. You're your own master, of course. We were just wondering whether you hadn't undervalued our friendship in not asking our advice before making your plans." Jerry followed a pattern in the rug with the point of his stick. "I wish you hadn't put it just that way, Roger." "I don't know how else to put it. That's the fact, isn't it, Jerry?" "No. I don't undervalue your friendship. You know that, Roger, you too. Uncle Jack. I suppose I should have said something about it. But I--I just sort of drifted into it. I think walloping Sagorski spoiled me--made me rather keen to have a try at somebody who had licked him. Clancy's almost, if not quite, the best in his class. I'll get well thrashed, I guess, but it's going to be a lot of fun trying--and if nobody knows who I am, I can't see what harm it does."