just couldn't help listening. Say, this mitt's for you. Shake it! So
you're going to marry Bailey's sister, Ruth, are you? You're the lucky
guy. She's a queen!'
'Do you know her, Steve?'
'Do I know her! Didn't I tell you I was the tame physical instructor in
that palace? I wish I had a dollar for every time I've thrown the
medicine-ball at her. Why, I'm the guy that gave her that figure of
hers. She don't come to me regular, like Bailey and the old man, but do
I know her? I should say I did know her.'
Kirk shook his hand.
'You're all right, Steve!' he said huskily, and vanished into the
bathroom. A sound as of a tropical deluge came from within.
Steve hammered upon the door. The downpour ceased.
'Say!' called Steve.
'Hello?'
'I don't want to discourage you, squire, but......'
The door opened and Kirk's head appeared.
'What's the matter?'
'Well, you heard what Bailey said?'
'About his father?'
'Sure. It goes.'
Kirk came out into the gallery, towelling himself vigorously.
'Who is her father?' he asked, seating himself on the rail.
'He's a son of a gun,' said Steve with emphasis. 'As rich as John D.
pretty nearly and about as chummy as a rattlesnake. Were you thinking
of calling and asking him for a father's blessing?'
'Something of the sort, I suppose.'
'Forget it! He'd give you the hook before you'd got through asking if
you might call him daddy.'
'You're comforting, Steve. They call you Little Sunbeam at home, don't
they?'
'Hell!' said Steve warmly, 'I'm not shooting this at you just to make
you feel bad. I gotta reason. I want to make you see this ain't going
to be no society walk-over, with the Four Hundred looking on from the
pews and poppa signing cheques in the background. Say, did I ever tell
you how I beat Kid Mitchell?'
'Does it apply to the case in hand?'
'Does it what to the which?'
'Had it any bearing on my painful position? I only ask, because that's
what is interesting me most just now, and, if you're going to change
the subject, there's a chance that my attention may wander.'
'Sure it does. It's a, what d'you call it when you pull something
that's got another meaning tucked up its sleeve?'
'A parable?'
'That's right. A...what you said. Well, this Kid Mitchell was looked on
as a coming champ in those days. He had cleaned up some good boys,
while I had only gotten a rep about as big as a nickel with a hole in
it. I guess I looked pie to him. He turkey-trotted up to me for the
first round and stopped in front of me as if he was wondering what had
