“Aw, quit it, Bud, quit it,” he sighed, “it ain’t come t’ that—­yet.  Besides, the Kid’s here, so loose ye gun, Bud.  No, give it t’me; you’re a bit on edge t’night, I guess, an’ it might go off an’ break a glass or somethin’.  So gimme ye gun, Bud.  That’s it!  Now we can sit an’ talk real sociable, can’t we?  Now listen, Bud—­what you want is t’ get your own back on this guy Geoff, an’ what th’ Kid wants is t’ show his sister as he ain’t a kid, an’ what I want is t’ give ye both a helpin’ hand—­”

But while M’Ginnis stood scowling at the imperturbable speaker, Spike rose, a little unsteadily, and turned to the door.

“I’ll be gettin’ on me way, Bud,” said he.

“Where to?”

“Home.”

“What!  Back t’ Hermy?  After she turned ye out?”

“But I—­I got t’ go somewheres—­”

“Well, you stay right here with me, Kid; I’ll fix ye up all right—­”

“’S right, Kid!” nodded Soapy.  “Bud’ll fix ye all right, same as I said; we’ll have in another bottle when that’s empty!”

“What about your sister, Kid?” demanded M’Ginnis fiercely.  “What about Hermy an’ this swell guy?  Are y’ goin’ t’ sit around an’ do nothin’?”

“But Geoff’s goin’ t’ marry her.”

“Marry her!  What, him?  A millionaire marry your sister?  You think so, an’ she thinks so, but I know different!”

“But Hermy ain’t that sort.  Hermy’s—­good—­”

“Sure, but this guy’s got her fazed—­she thinks he’s square all right—­she’ll trust him an’ then—­s’posin’ he ain’t?”

“I—­I ain’t s’posin’ nothin’ like that!” said Spike, gulping his whisky.

“Well, s’posin’ he’s been meetin’ her—­in a wood—­on the sly—­eh?  S’posin’ they been huggin’ an’ kissin’—­”

“Say now—­you cut that out—­” stammered Spike, his voice thick.  “I tell ye—­she ain’t—­that kind.”

“S’posin’,” continued Bud, refilling the lad’s glass, “s’posin’ I could show ’em to ye in a wood—­eh?  Ah!  What she want t’ meet him in a wood for, anyway—­nice an’ quiet, eh?”

“Say now, Bud, I—­I ain’t goin’ t’ listen t’ no more!” said Spike, rising and clutching at the table, “I—­I’m goin’ home!” And swaying on unsteady feet, he turned to the door, but M’Ginnis gripped his shoulder.

“Wait a bit, Kid.”

“N-no, I’m—­goin’ home—­see!” said Spike, setting his jaw obstinately, “I’m goin’—­r-right now!”

“That’s just what you ain’t!” snarled M’Ginnis.  “Sit down!  Hermy’s only a work-girl—­don’t forget that, Kid—­an’ this guy’s a millionaire.  I guess he thinks Hermy’ll do—­till he gets tired of her an’—­then what?”

“He—­told me he’s goin’ t’ marry her!” said Spike slowly, speaking with an effort, “an’ I guess Geoff ain’t a liar.  An’ I wanter—­go home.”

“Home—­after she throwed ye out?  Ain’t ye got no pride?”

“Aw, say, Bud,” sighed Soapy, “I guess d’ Kid ain’t soused enough for pride yet; sling another glass int’ him—­that’ll fix him good, I reckon.”