“And Davy and I dragged you both out by your heels and got you away from the strong arm of the law,” finished John. “We had some trouble doing it. Chester insisted on fighting the whole crowd and that nearly queered us. We had just managed to make them understand that it was all fun, when it dawned on him that there were police present and that it was his bounden duty to do them up. But it ended all right. We got you and Chester into a hack and brought you home. What became of Kingsford and that tall, black-haired youngster I don’t know. But I guess they got off all right.” “Kingsford?” asked Phillip, drawing his brows together. “Was he there?” “Was he there! Do you mean that you didn’t know it was Kingsford you were mauling under the seats?” Phillip groaned. “Honest, John?” “Honest Injun.” “I must have been pretty bad. I didn’t recognize him at all. Why, he’s――he’s a chum!” John smiled. “Chum, eh? And you were just showing him how much you loved him, I suppose? Well, it’s all past now, Phil. I’m not sure, though, that it isn’t my duty as your――hem――guardian, Phil, to read you a short lecture.” “Go ahead. I wish you would. I wish you’d kick me! I――oh, hang it, John, I’m an awful dunce!” “Well, let’s get outdoors. Now, I’m not altogether the right kind to lecture any one on the subject of getting drunk, Phil. Unless, as I’ve seen it stated, experience is necessary to the making of a good preacher. In my own coltish days I made a bit of an ass of myself. As a freshman I thought it was incumbent on me to drink a good deal, and I have unpleasant recollections of three occasions when――well, when I made as big a fool of myself as it is allowed any man. So you see, Phil, if you emulate my example you’ve got two more coming to you. Only――well, I think I’d pattern myself on some one else and let the other two go by forfeit.” They had reached Little’s and John led the way to his room, explaining that David had returned to New York with his father. He pushed a window wide open and thrust a chair up to it, taking the window-seat himself, clasping his big, brown hands over his knees. Phillip, looking at the clear-cut features and kindly, honest eyes, tried to associate them with scenes of drunken orgies, and failed. “I don’t believe you were ever nasty-drunk, John!” he declared warmly and with conviction. John turned, smiling, and read some of the admiration in the other’s eyes. “Nonsense,” he said. “I’ve been just as much of a brute as other chaps. Don’t try to make a hero of me, Phil; I’m poor stuff.” “I don’t believe it,” answered Phillip, doggedly. “Don’t? Well――I’m glad you don’t, old man. I like people to like me and I want you to if you can.” Phillip smiled at a recollection. “I reckon you like people that you like to like you?” he asked. “That’s it,” answered John, reflecting the smile. “And that means I like you, Phillip of Virginia.” “Oh! I didn’t mean that!” protested Phillip. “I――I was just quoting somebody.”