“It’s not a friend,” explained Perry hurriedly.  “I just rented him.”

“Does he drink?”

“Do you?” demanded Perry, twisting himself tortuously round.

There was a faint sound of assent.

“Sure he does!” said Mr. Tate heartily.  “A really efficient camel ought to be able to drink enough so it’d last him three days.”

“Tell you, sir,” said Perry anxiously, “he isn’t exactly dressed up enough to come out.  If you give me the bottle I can hand it back to him and he can take his inside.”

From under the cloth was audible the enthusiastic smacking sound inspired by this suggestion.  When a butler had appeared with bottles, glasses, and siphon one of the bottles was handed back, and thereafter the silent partner could be heard imbibing long potations at frequent intervals.

Thus passed a peaceful hour.  At ten o’clock Mr. Tate decided that they’d better be starting.  He donned his clown’s costume; Perry replaced the camel’s head with a sigh; side by side they progressed on foot the single block between the Tate house and the Tallyho Club.

The circus ball was in full swing.  A great tent fly had been put up inside the ballroom and round the walls had been built rows of booths representing the various attractions of a circus side show, but these were now vacated and on the floor swarmed a shouting, laughing medley of youth and colour—­clowns, bearded ladies, acrobats, bareback riders, ringmasters, tattooed men and charioteers.  The Townsends had determined to assure their party of success, so a great quantity of liquor had been surreptitiously brought over from their house in automobiles and it was flowing freely.  A green ribbon ran along the wall completely round the ballroom, with pointing arrows alongside of it and signs which instructed the uninitiated to “Follow the green line’” The green line led down to the bar, where waited pure punch and wicked punch and plain dark-green bottles.

On the wall above the bar was another arrow, red and very wavy, and under it the slogan:  “Now follow this!”

But even amid the luxury of costume and high spirits represented there the entrance of the camel created something of a stir, and Perry was immediately surrounded by a curious, laughing crowd who were anxious to penetrate the identity of this beast who stood by the wide doorway eyeing the dancers with his hungry, melancholy gaze.

And then Perry saw Betty.  She was standing in front of a booth talking to a group of clowns, comic policemen and ringmasters.  She was dressed in the costume of an Egyptian snake charmer, a costume carried out to the smallest detail.  Her tawny hair was braided and drawn through brass rings, the effect crowned with a glittering Oriental tiara.  Her fair face was stained to a warm olive glow and on her bare arms and the half moon of her back writhed painted serpents with single eyes of venomous green.  Her feet were in sandals and her skirt was slit to