Then he saw for the first time that Chick’s forehead was swathed in a rough bandage and that there was a large red stain against the white cloth. “What happened?” he exclaimed. Chick turned his head slowly and grinned. He looked pale, and the grin was palpably effected only after an effort. The proprietor interposed briskly. “You his friend?” he asked Bert. “Well, say, get him out of here, will you? It don’t do my place no good to have him sittin’ around like that.” “Why, yes, but--but what--how--” “Shot off his mouth,” explained Mike in a lowered voice. “Feller biffed him with a cue. I didn’t see it, and I don’t know what they was jawin’ about, but that’s how I got it. He’s all right now. Sort of woozy, though, and you’d better get a taxi, I guess.” “I’ll walk,” said Chick, pulling himself from his chair and wincing as he moved. “Sorry to bother you, Bert, but I was a bit dizzy. Much obliged to you, Mr. Mooney.” “That’s all right, young feller, but listen to me, will you? You play pool somewhere else, see? I run a respectable place, and I don’t want no trouble-makers in here, see? I ain’t saying whose fault it was, mind, and I don’t care. And no hard feelings, see? But I’d be just as pleased if you kept away. And that goes for the other guy, too.” “All right,” replied Chick wearily. “Come on, Bert.” Outside Bert asked anxiously: “Sure you’d better not ride, Chick? It won’t take a minute to find a cab.” “I’d rather walk. The air feels good. Gosh, that was a nasty thump he gave me!” “Who did it? How did it happen? Never mind now, though. Better take my arm, old chap.” [Illustration: “Who did it? How did it happen?”] Chick accepted the suggestion and for a few minutes they went slowly along the street, making their way with difficulty through the throng. Chick had set his cap on his head and it partly covered the blood-soaked bandage, and so his appearance attracted no attention. Presently, reaching West street and less crowded sidewalks, Chick began to talk. “I suppose it’s after ten, isn’t it? Afraid I’m making a mess for you, Bert. Hope we don’t run into a faculty.” “Only a minute or two after,” answered Bert. “Keep your head down and we’ll make it, I guess.” “Afraid I can’t.” Chick attempted a chuckle. “Have to hold it up, Bert. If I don’t it throbs horribly. Have we got any arnica in the room?” “I think so. If we haven’t I can find some easily enough. Is it much of a cut?” “I don’t know, but it feels a yard long. A fellow bathed it in cold water and it hurt like the dickens. I got sort of faint and Mooney asked if he couldn’t send for some one to help me home and I told him to send for you. I guess he was afraid I’d want the ambulance and get the cops on the scene! How did they find you? Were you in the room? Any one hear about me?” Bert explained as they went along State street between buildings gradually changing from shops to residences. Then: “You haven’t told me yet who hit you, Chick.”