"Yes," faltered the longshoreman, shrinking. "Well, I'm glad y' understand it," returned Johnnie. "And now you just watch me for _on-n-ne_ second! You won't never lay this strap across _me_ again!" He whipped out a long, sharp, silver-handled bread-knife. Then turning to the table, he laid the strap upon the beautiful marble; and, in sight of all, cut it away to the very buckle--inch by inch! "Now!" he cried, as he scattered the pieces upon the carpet. The punishment was complete; his triumph nothing less than perfect. And it occurred to him now that there was particular gratification in having present this morning His Royal Highness. "Mister Prince," he said, "I'm awful tickled you was here!" The Prince expressed himself as being equally pleased. "Mister Smith," he returned, "I don't know as I ever seen a boy that could hit like you! Why, Mister Smith, it's _wonderful_! How do y' do it?" He shook Johnnie's hand warmly. "Well, I guess I'm like David, Mister Prince," Johnnie explained modestly. "O' course you know David--and his friend, Mister Goli'th?--Oh, y' _don't_? Y' mean y' ain't never met neither _one_? Oh, gee! I'm surprised! But that's 'cause y' don't know Mrs. Kukor, upstairs. They're both friends of hers. Well, I'll ask 'em down." An upturned face and a beckoning arm accomplished the invitation, whereupon there entered at once the champion Philistine and that youth who was ruddy and of a fair countenance. And after a deal of hand-shaking all around, Johnnie told the tale of that certain celebrated fight--told it as one who had witnessed the whole affair. He turned his face from side to side as he talked, gesticulating with easy grace. "And now I guess we're ready t' start, ain't we?" he observed as he concluded. "David, would you and your friend like t' come along?--Only Big Tom, he's got t' stay behind, 'cause----" At the stove, the untidy heap of brown blanket in the wheel chair stirred again. Out of the faded folds a small head, blanched and bewhiskered, reared itself weakly. "Johnnie," quavered old Grandpa. "Johnnie! Milk!" The boy's lips ceased to frame words. His right arm fell to his side; the left went up again to resume that tugging at his hair. He swayed slightly, shifting his weight, and his big toe began once more to curl and uncurl. Then, as fancy was displaced by reality, as dreaming gave place to fact, Barber disappeared from the floor. The silk-hatted gentlemen with the gold canes went, too--along with the gallant young English Prince, that other Prince who was of Israel, and a tall person with a sore, red bump on his forehead. The gold-and-green walls faded; so did the carpet, the curtains, and that light-gray suit (which was precisely like the one Johnnie had worn when he first came to the Barber flat--except, of course, that it was larger). The marble-topped table and the fat chairs folded themselves up out of sight. And all those delicious fruit pies dissolved into thin air.