"Did you see her!" said the Gutter Pup ecstatically, after they had allowed the pent-up hilarity to die out behind the sheltering hedge. "Skippy, old top, when that last bunch arrived, I thought she certainly was going down for the count." "Her eyes were jumping and she was breathing like a horse." "Well, how do you like the idea?" "Best Sunday afternoon I ever spent." "Where away now?" "I'd like to work it on Tootsie." "Hold up--my sister needs it more than yours." The point was debated and as no decision could be reached it was decided to keep to the regular program. The afternoon was a huge success from the point of view of the male phalanx. The destruction was enormous. One or two young ladies held out until the fifth relay but almost collapsed at the fourth. "'Course they'll all get together to-morrow and have it in for us," said the Gutter Pup, chortling. "But never mind, it was worth it. Did you ever see anything as idiotically solemn as Tacks Brooker? When he arrives they certainly throw up the sponge." "Have we time for another?" "Sure, it's only a quarter of six. We'll put this one over hard, for she certainly needs taking down." "Who?" "Dolly Travers. Don't know her? You will." Miss Dolly Travers received them with the manner of a Dresden shepherdess just stepping from the mantelpiece and Skippy took the petite hand gingerly, as though afraid that anything so delicate and brittle would break at the touch. The voice of his brother's worldly wisdom seemed to sound in his ears: "Pick out something young and grateful. Be a hero." Miss Travers was undeniably young, if artful, and moreover she was not of the dark and deceptive class of brunettes, but a blonde, with eyes as open and guileless as the blue of the June day. She had solved the problem of the classification which as naturally marks the feminine progress as long trousers indicates the man, by bobbing her hair; and, though the subterfuge seemed to afford much amusement to certain of her sex, it immediately separated her from the pigtails. There was something about her that appealed instantly to Skippy and inspired confidence, something cool and dainty and at ease. She did not express either surprise or excessive delight at their entrance. There was something simple and frank about everything she did. He appreciated it and fell to wishing that Tootsie would be more like her, less coquettish and more of a good comrade. "Well, what do you know?" said Dolly, looking at the Gutter Pup. "Nothing." "I hope your mother and father are well," said Skippy, true to the formula. "Gracious! Are you trying to make conversation?" said Dolly, beginning to laugh, "Don't sit on the edge of your chairs, boys, like monkeys on a stick; sit back and be comfortable." Happy Mather and Tacks appeared with gloomy ceremony.