ss Grouch's father?"

"What!"

"Precisely. Now, will you go to him?"

"No."

"When you employ one of the highest-priced counsel in America," observed
the old man plaintively, "while it isn't essential that you should
receive his advice with any degree of courtesy--"

"I really beg your pardon, Judge Enderby. The fact is, my temper has
been a little ruffled--"

"Calm it down until you need it again and come with me." The judge
tucked an arm under the Tyro's, who presently found himself being
studied by a handsomely grim face, somewhat humanized by an occasional
twinge of pain. The owner of the face acknowledged Judge Enderby's
introduction and waited. The Tyro likewise acknowledged Judge Enderby's
introduction and waited. Mr. Wayne was waiting for the Tyro to
apologize. The Tyro hadn't the faintest notion of apologizing, and, had
he known that it was expected, would have been more exasperated than
before, since he considered himself the aggrieved party. Finding silence
unproductive, the magnate presently broke it.

"You were going in after that woman?"

"Yes."

"Did you know her?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"On shipboard."

"Oh! She was the one you and my daughter used to pamper, in the
steerage. Mrs. Denyse told me. So you thought you'd be a Young Hero,
eh?"

The Tyro caught Judge Enderby's eye, and, reading therein an admonition,
preserved his temper and his silence.

"Well, I rather spoiled your little game. And you pretty near ruined my
digestion with your infernal elbow."

The Tyro smiled an amiable smile.

"Did you know who I was when you kicked me?"

"No," answered the Tyro in such a tone that the elder man grinned.

"Nor care either, eh?"

"No. I'd have punched you in the eye if I'd had time."

"Don't apologize. You did your best. Now that you do know who I am--"

"I don't. Except that you're the father of Little Miss Grouch."

"Of who--um!" demanded the other, rescuing his grammar from his surprise
barely in time to save its fair repute.

The Tyro had the grace to blush. "It's just a foolish nickname," he
said.

"Particularly inappropriate, I should say. By the way, your own name
seems to be a matter of some doubt. What do you call yourself?"

"Smith."

"By what right?"

"Birthright. If it comes to rights, where is your license to practice
cross-examination?"

"Mrs. Charlton Denyse says that your real name is Daddleskink."

"Well, it won't seriously handicap her popularity with