Yes, sir;
you bet! Didn't I have the gall? That's the way you want to do to get
along--get right in and not be afraid. I got his signature, you bet. Ah,
I'm right in it with Beale; he thinks I'm hot stuff."

Now that there was nothing to worry him, and little to occupy his mind,
Vandover gave himself over considerably to those animal pleasures which
he enjoyed so much. He lay abed late in the morning, dozing between the
warm sheets; he overfed himself at table, and drank too much wine; he
ate between meals, having filled his sideboard with canned pates, potted
birds, and devilled meats; while upon the bamboo table stood a tin box
of chocolates out of which he ate whole handfuls at a time. He would
take this box into the bathroom with him and eat while he lay in the hot
water until he was overcome by the enervating warmth and by the steam
and would then drop off to sleep.

It was during these days that Vandover took up his banjo-playing
seriously, if it could be said that he did anything seriously at this
time. He took occasional lessons of a Mexican in a room above a
wigmaker's store on Market Street, and learned to play by note. For a
little time he really applied himself; after he had mastered the
customary style of play he began to affect the more brilliant and fancy
performances, playing two banjos at once, or putting nickels under the
bridge and picking the strings with a calling-card to imitate a
mandolin. He even made up some comical pieces that had a great success
among the boys. One of these he called the "Pleasing Pan-Hellenic
Production"; another was the imitation of the "Midway Plaisance Music,"
and a third had for title "A Sailor Robbing a Ship," in which he managed
to imitate the sounds of the lapping of the water, the creaking of the
oarlocks, the tramp of the sailor's feet upon the deck, the pistol shot
that destroyed him, and--by running up the frets on the bass-string--his
dying groans, a finale that never failed to produce a tremendous effect.

Chapter Thirteen

Just before Lent, and about three months after the death of Vandover's
father, Henrietta Vance gave a reception and dance at her house. The
affair was one of a series that the girls of the Cotillon had been
giving to the men of the same club. Vandover had gone to all but the
last, which had occurred while he was at Coronado. He was sure of
meeting Geary, young Haight, Turner Ravis, and all the people of his set
at these functions,