"I'll stand the cab for him, officer," I said with a smile, "if your rules, don't you know, or whatever it is, will allow." I added in a lowered voice: "Makes it devilish easier for you, don't you know, and avoids such a jolly row. And--er--I want to ask you and your friend to accept from me a little token of my appreciation." The policeman exchanged a glance with Tim and considered. "Well, sir," he said, "as to the cab, of course if you're a mind to want to do that, it's your own affair." He turned to his companion. "Just cancel that, Tim," he directed. "Call a four-wheeler." "Thank you, Lightnut," put in the old man gratefully. "You _have_ got a grain of decency left, by George, after all!" Meantime, Jenkins was answering my inquiry. "I don't believe, sir, you have a bit of cash in the house. You told me so when you were retiring." By Jove, I remembered now! The poker game in the evening! I was wondering whether they could use a check, when I spied Billings' wallet on the table. The very thing, by Jove! Examination showed, first thing, a wad of yellow-backs, fresh from the bank. I peeled off two and pushed them into the officer's hand. "This belongs to a friend of mine," I remarked; "but it's just the same as my own, don't you know, and he won't mind. Dash it, we're just like brothers!" A howl of maniacal laughter from the old fool in the chair startled us both. "Regular Damon and Pythias, damn it!" he gabbled, grinning with hideous face contortions. "One for all, and all for one! And just help yourself; don't mind me. Why--_hell_!" O'Keefe prodded him sharply in the shoulder with his night stick. "Stop your skylarking now, Foxy," he admonished angrily, "and come on. Here the gentleman's gone and put up his money for a cab for you and you ought to want to get out of his way so he can rest." "He's sure been kind to you," supplemented Tim, whose eye had noted the passing of the yellow boys. "Kind!" mocked the old geezer, showing his scattered teeth in a horrible grin. "Why, he's a lu-lu, a regular Samaritan!" "No names!" warned O'Keefe, slightly lifting his night stick. "Come on to the street--you seem to forget you're under arrest." He added hastily: "And I ought to have warned you that anything you may say, Foxy--" "Oh, you go to--Brooklyn!" snarled Foxy. "For two pins I'd knock your block off, you fat-headed Irish fool! Think I'm going down to the sidewalk without my clothes?" "Are your clothes somewhere in this building?" I asked with some sympathy. He whirled on me sneeringly and jeered like a jolly screech owl: "Oh, no; not exactly _in_ the building--they're on the flagpole on the roof, of course! He-he-he! Bloody good joke, isn't it?" I sat on the edge of the table wearily; and, catching the policeman's eye, shrugged my shoulders significantly. "You're right, sir," he said apologetically. "We won't fool a second longer. Here, you take that side, Tim. Let's pull!"