ourse of the elect was to various forms of
spirituous assistance. They never could have endured each other twelve
months in the year without it. So, on Saturday nights a sufficient
number of cocktails was served to ensure a certain hilarity, and, in
case this should wear off, the bar worked steadily during the evening.
So it was on the Saturday night in question, and the party was "going"
very well.

Wally was dancing with Nancy Horton, when Billy, her husband, stopped
them.

"Look here, Nance, the butler just telephoned that Teddy isn't in his
bed, and they can't find him."

"Rubbish! He's somewhere about. Come on, Wally."

"No. Hold on a minute. They phoned the Hunters to see if he was there,
and they discovered that Herbert is missing."

"The little beasts! Where do you suppose they are? Do the Hunters know
it?"

"The servants were going to telephone them."

"What do you want me to do?"--shortly.

"I think we ought to go home----"

"I will not! You go, if you like, and give him a good thrashing when you
find him. Come on, Wally."

She whirled away with Wally, who said:

"Thank the Lord, my kid is a girl!"

But, one by one, parents were called by the 'phone, until a sufficient
number of fathers had left to make the affair one-sided. So it broke up,
with loud protests on the part of the women against the tyranny of
children, and the slavery of parenthood.

Max grumbled all the way home, and Wally slept. But once indoors, he
surreptitiously crept to Isabelle's door and tiptoed in. Her nightie was
a heap by her bed, the bed crumpled and empty. He hurried to Miss
Watts's door and roused her.

"Miss Watts, where is Isabelle?" he demanded.

"In bed, Mr. Bryce."

"No, she isn't. I've looked."

"But she went to bed at half past eight. I saw her asleep myself. Just
a minute, please."

He heard her pattering about. He went downstairs and summoned Matthews.
He knew nothing. He had been on duty all evening, but he had not seen
her. Wally ordered him to question all the servants. Miss Watts, greatly
excited, appeared in a bathrobe. A telephone call to the Hunters' house
brought the reply that Mr. Hunter and the servants were out looking,
now. Wally went up to his wife's room. She was in bed.

"Isabelle's gone," he said.

"Gone where?" she asked, sitting up.

"I don't know. With the others, I suppose."

"Where is Watts? She is responsible for Isabelle."

"She saw her asleep in bed at eight thirty. Mi