He walked unsteadily to the door, amid a chorus of noisy farewells,
with Helene unsteady and hilarious behind him. Warren and Shine seemed
satisfied with their hospitable endeavors, as they bade good-night.
The elevator brought up two belated guests, the roseate Pinkie and a
colorless youth.

"Oh, are you going, Mr. Shirley? What a blooming shame. I just left the
most wonderful supper-party at the Claridge to see you."

"Too bad: I hope for better luck next time."

"The elevator is waiting," and Helene's gaze was scornful. Shirley
restrained his smile at the girl's covert hatred of the redhaired
charmer. Then he asked maliciously: "Isn't she interesting? Too bad she
associates with her inferiors."

"You put it mildly."

"Here, boy, call a taxicab," he ordered the attendant, as they reached
the lower level.

"Sorry, boss, but I dassent leave the elevator at this time of night.
I'm the only one in the place jest now."

Shirley insisted, with a duty soother of silver, but the negro returned
in a few minutes, shaking his head. Shirley ordered him to telephone the
nearest hacking-stand. Then followed another delay, without result.

"Come, Miss Helene, there is method in this. Let us walk, as it seems to
have been planned we should."

"Is it wise? Why put yourself in their net?"

For reply, he placed in her hand the walking stick which he had so
carefully guarded when they entered the apartment. It was heavier than a
policeman's nightstick. As he retook it, she observed the straightening
line of his lips.

"As the French say, 'We shall see what we shall see.' Please walk a
little behind me, so that my right arm may be free."

It was after two, and the street was dark. Shirley had noted an
arc-light on the corner when he had entered the building--now it was
extinguished. A man lurched forward as they turned into Sixth Avenue,
his eyes covered by a dark cap.

"Say gent! Give a guy that's down an' out the price of a beef stew? I
got three pennies an' two more'll fix me."

"No!"

"Aw, gent, have a heart!" The man was persistent, drawing closer, as
Shirley walked an with his companion, into the increasing darkness, away
from the corner. Another figure appeared from a dark doorway.

"I'm broke too, Mister. Kin yer help a poor war refugee on a night like
this?"

Shirley slipped his left hand inside his coat pocket and drew out a
handkerchief to the surprise of the men. He suddenly drew Helene back
against the