“Fool!” shouted Bruce, glaring at him. “Don’t speak to me of Plantagenets. Read that telegram; read it and fall upon your knees! I’ve won a prize, I tell you! You called me a chicken-coop builder, did you? You said I’d better settle down to building low-priced bungalows---- Oh, yes, you did!” He was a boy again, lording it over his chum. He danced about, tapping Bud on the head and shoulders as if teasing him for a fight. Bud finally managed to read the message Bruce had thrust into his hands, and emitted a yell. They fell to pummeling each other joyfully until Bud sank exhausted into a chair. “Great Jupiter!” Bud panted. “So this is what you were up to all spring! We’ll have a celebration! My dear boy, don’t bother about anything--I’ll arrange it all!” He busied himself at the telephone while Bruce received a newspaper reporter who had been sent to interview him. A bunch of telegrams arrived from Laconia--salutations of old friends, a congratulatory message from the memorial committee asking when they might expect him. The members of the committee were all men and women he had known from childhood, and his heart grew big at the pride they showed in him. In the reception room he had difficulty in composing himself sufficiently to answer the reporter’s questions with the composure the occasion demanded.... “Small and select--that’s my idea!” said Bud in revealing his plans for the celebration. “We’re going to pull it at Shep Mills’s--Shep won’t listen to anything else! And the Freemans will be there, and Millie, and Helen Torrence, and Maybelle’s beating it from the country club to be sure she doesn’t miss anything. Thank God! something’s happened to give me an excuse for acquiring a large, juicy bun.” “Oh, thunder! You’re going to make an ass of me! I don’t want any party!” “No false modesty! We’re all set. I’ll skip around to the Club and nail Carroll and Whitford and any of the boys who are there. I’ll bet your plans are rotten, but we’ll pretend they’re mar-ve-li-ous! You’ll probably bluff your way through life just on your figure!” “But there’s no reason why the Shep Millses should be burdened with your show! Why didn’t you ask me about that?” “Oh, their house is bigger than mine. And Shep stammered his head off demanding that he have the honor. Don’t worry, old hoss, you’re in the hands of your friends!” The party overflowed from the house into the grounds, Bud having invited everyone he thought likely to contribute to its gaiety. Many did not know just what it was all about, or thought it was one of Bud’s jokes. He had summoned a jazz band and cleared the living-room for dancing. “Bud was unusually crazy when he telephoned me,” said Millicent. “I don’t quite know what you’ve done, but it must be a world-shaking event.” “All of that! The good wishes you sent after the mail train on a certain night did the business. I’d have told you of my adventure, only I was afraid I’d draw a blank.”