"Because he is one," growled Laxton, wrathfully--"a mean little sneak who vilifies people's character in that rag of a paper which ought to be burnt by the public hangman! Snakes and mosquitoes were created for some purpose, I suppose, but why such a little reptile as Dolser should be allowed to exist, I don't know." Mr. Jiddy contributed himself to the "Pepper Box" in an underhand way, by listening to things he was not meant to hear, so he took up the cudgels on behalf of Mr. Dolser in a weakly, ferocious manner. "Oh, I say, you know those words are actionable?" "Are they," said Laxton, who had risen to his feet and was looking down from his tall height at the scrap of limp humanity in the chair, "you can repeat them to Dolser if you like, and if he doesn't think they are actionable I'll be happy to add a thrashing, so that he can have me up for assault." Mr. Jiddy wriggled, not liking the turn the conversation had taken, and resumed his cigarette, while Otterburn, who agreed with every word Laxton said, but could hardly endorse it in his character of host, hastened to make an observation. "By the way, Gartney's in London." "Just come in time to hear Mr. Dolser's opinion about his book," said Laxton, grimly. "I don't think that would trouble Gartney much," replied Otterburn, smiling, "but after eighteen months' travel in the wilds, I'll suppose he'll stay at home for some time." "I'll lay you a level fiver he doesn't," said Mr. Laxton, removing his pipe, "he's got prairie fever." "What's prairie fever?" demanded Dolly. "Do you know what a prairie is?" said Laxton, answering one question by asking another. "A large field, isn't it?" said Mr. Jiddy, complacently. Angus roared. "Yes, a very large field," he replied, "much larger than any you'll get in England. I shot that buffalo on the prairie," he added, pointing to a huge shaggy head adorning the opposite wall. "It's a very large head," observed Mr. Jiddy, wisely. "A buffalo--a kind of cow, isn't it?" "Not exactly," returned Laxton, drily; "it's more like an enraged bull. But to return to prairie fever. It's the feeling a man gets when he once sees those undulating grass plains and which haunts him ever afterwards." "What haunts him ever afterwards?" asked the intelligent Dolly, lighting another cigarette. "Oh, damn!" retorted Laxton, politely, and turned on his heel, quite disgusted with the ignorance of the young man. Thambits was not in the least put out by Laxton's rudeness, but began to talk to Angus about Mrs. Veilsturm, while Jiddy tried to extract a paragraph out of Laxton by a series of mild little questions about buffaloes. "Mrs. Veilsturm's an awfully jolly woman, Macjean," said Thambits--"real good sort, you know! I think you'd like her immensely." "Would I?" replied Angus absently, wondering how he was to ask Dolly about Miss Sheldon. "Yes; she's got awfully jolly Sunday evenings, you know. Are you fond of baccarat?"