“I do not see.”  The brown eyes had never looked at him so coldly before, and their expression cut him.

“I’m glad you don’t,” he cried, and realized that the words had taken him a step deeper into trouble.  “It’s just this way, Miss Margery—­Billy isn’t hurt or ill, but he isn’t—­isn’t feeling quite himself, and—­and I’ve got to—­I’ve got to be with him.”  His voice sounded as if he were going to cry, but it moved the girl to no pity.

“Oh!” she said, and her bewildered tone was a whole world removed from the bright comradeship with which she had met him.  “I see—­you and Billy have something else planned.”  Her face flushed suddenly.  “I’m sorry I misunderstood about—­about the theater.  I wouldn’t for worlds have—­have seemed to force you to—­” She stopped, embarrassed, hurt, but yet with her graceful dignity untouched.

“Oh,” the wretched Rex exclaimed impetuously, “if I could only take you to the theater, I’d rather than—­” but the girl stopped him.

“Never mind about that, please,” she said, with gentle decision.  “I must go home—­when is the next boat?  One is going now—­good-night, Mr. Fairfax—­no, don’t come with me—­I don’t need you,” and she was gone.

Two minutes later Strong’s innocent slumbers were dispersed by a vicious shake.  “Wake up! wake up!” ordered Fairfax, restraining himself with difficulty from mangling the cause of his sufferings.  “I’ve had enough, and we’re going home, straight.”

Rex was mistaken about that, but Billy was cordial in agreeing with him.  “Good idea, Recky!  Howd’y’ ever come to think of it?  Le’s go home straight; tha’s a bully good thing to do.  Le’s do it.  Big head on you, ol’ boy,” and yawning still, but with unperturbed good nature, Strong marched, a bit crookedly, arm in arm with his friend to the street.

[Illustration:  At every station the conductor and Rex had to reason with him]

Rex’s memory of the trip uptown on the Elevated was like an evil dream.  Strong, after his nap, was as a giant refreshed, and his play of wit knew no contracting limits.  There were, luckily, not many passengers going up at this hour, but the dozen or so on the car were regaled.  Billy selected a seat on the floor with his broad back planted against the door, and at every station the conductor and Rex had to reason with him at length before the door could be opened.  The official threatened as well as he could for laughing to put him off, but he threatened less strenuously for the sight of six feet two of muscle in magnificently fit condition.  This lasted for half a dozen stations and then the patient began to play like a mountainous kitten.  He took a strap on either side of the car and turned somersaults; he did traveling ring work with them; he gave a standing broad jump that would have been creditable on an athletic field; he had his audience screaming with laughter at an imitation of water polo over the back of a seat.  Then, just as the fun was at an almost impossible point, and the conductor, highly entertained but worried, was considering how to get this chap arrested, Billy walked up to him with charming friendliness and shook hands.