He was quiet for a while then, but he finally burst out with “Here I am workin’ myself skinny tryin’ to satisfy these Parisian women, an’ you, ya little shrimp, actually run away from the best lookin’ and most deservin’ one in the whole pack! Ain’t ya ashamed of yourself?” “I’ll take you over there to-morrow,” I promised. All he would say after that was “Seems damned funny to me ... damned funny....” Which was just two damns funnier than it seemed to me. —11— Well, I took Ben to the Madame’s on the pretext that he wanted to apologize for breaking in so unceremoniously last night. She accepted the apology graciously and I think she expected him to leave. But Ben had no intention of leaving and, as I had told him I would leave them alone, I began to wonder how I could manage to get out without taking him with me. As a starter I turned on the phonograph and put on a peppy record. As the Madame likes to dance, I was not surprised when she submitted to Ben’s invitation to dance with him. However, Ben wasn’t much when it came to tripping the light fantastic and the Madame could not be blamed for suggesting that they call it enough after but a few steps. “What’s the matter?” inquired Ben, naturally suspicious and belligerent. The Madame laughed and told him that she “never could dance very well with big men.... I don’t like such tremendously big men half as much as I do little fellows like the sergeant.” If she had said anything but that, the evening might have gone along without any exceptional disturbances, but the declaration of preference was to Ben like the proverbial red flag to the bull, and he arose to the occasion promptly to demand, “What the devil’s the matter with these Parisian dames?... Don’t like beeg men!... Huh! When a woman says that to me I just make up my mind that if she an’ I ever get alone together, I’ll make her like me or mangle her!” “Ou la la!” laughed the Madame. “A genuine cave man, eh?... Such a droll friend for Sergeant Canwick!” And she laughed again. Well, I knew Ben was going to get rough, regardless of my presence, and I was wondering how in the devil I could get him out of there, because I’d be in a pretty pickle if the Madame got all torn up, and with me standing right there. I mean, she’d naturally expect me to act like a man and crown Ben or something—but I could just see myself trying to crown that big blister. Ben was starting to amble across to the divan on which she was sitting when we were all startled and relieved by a knock on the door. “Berta!” the Madame called, and the maid promptly appeared, answered the knock and announced that Major Fergus and a friend were there. Just the mention of a major was enough to quiet my bulldozing friend. He retired to a secluded corner where he would not have to face the officer and I took advantage of the moment to tell the Madame I had to step out for ten or fifteen minutes.