“And I guess I gotta earful or two to unload to yuh!” countered Gunboat, betraying that he was laboring under an excitement which more recent events had only temporarily eclipsed. “I should be obliged to know just who this young bounder is,” repeated the older man, in his most authoritative quarter-deck manner. But that manner was entirely lost on Gunboat Dorgan. “Yuh just play dead, yuh old Has-Been, until I say a word or two to me lady-friend here,” he proclaimed as he confronted Teddie and gave his back to an all too negligible enemy. “I came here to find out what right a law-sharp named West has got to take that car of yours away from me. I wantta know what call he’s got to load Ruby up wit’ a lot o’ talk about me goin’ to State’s Prison. And I may be a prize-fighter, but I’ve got the right to ask if I ain’t lived decent and done my work on the square. I’ve got——” “A prize-fighter?” interrupted the older man in the background. Then he strode valorously in between the two. “Do you mean to tell me, Miss Hayden, that a girl of your antecedents has—has come to have dealings with——” But he in turn was destined to interruption. “Say, d’ yuh want me to throw this old cuff-shooter out o’ here?” was Gunboat Dorgan’s crisp and angry demand of the girl. “Stop it!” cried Teddie, with a stamp of the foot. “Stop it, right here and right now! I’m tired of all this. I’m so tired of it I can’t stand another moment of it!” Then, with a deep breath, she turned about to the old gentleman with the rose-bud in his button-hole. “It’s been very kind of you, I’m sure,” she said in a voice of laboriously achieved patience, “but you can’t possibly help me, and you can’t possibly do any good by remaining here. So if you’ll permit Mr. Dorgan and me to talk this quietly over, by ourselves——” “You are requesting me to leave you?” her would-be benefactor inquired, as he reached for his hat. “You must,” announced Teddie. “Then permit me, Miss Hayden,” said the other with dignity, “to bid not only you, but also your—your professional boxer, a good afternoon.” And the old Commodore buttoned his coat and took his departure. He sallied forth with considerable trepidation, trepidation which remained with him even until he stopped in at a telegraph-office on lower Fifth Avenue and despatched a none too carefully worded message to the old Major in Hot Springs, announcing that things looked very dark indeed, as Theodora seemed to be mixed up with a young prize-fighter by the name of Dorgan, and suggesting that the sooner Theodora’s uncle could get back to the city the better it might be for all concerned. CHAPTER ELEVEN Teddie, alone with her irate young prize-fighter, turned and regarded him with a studiously narrowed eye. “Now, what do you want to know?” she quietly demanded. She felt oddly and immeasurably older than she had done but one short week ago.