"'Aw, go chase yourself,' said Geraldine and vanished into the shadows
with her companion.

"That interview took a lot of explaining. In fact, all the way to
Jerry's house the mystery of the girls' behavior hung like a cloud
over him. 'Do you know, Jack,' he said as we were parting, 'I think
that girl was mad--quite mad.'"

"Couldn't you have prevented that meeting?" I asked.

"I didn't try. Besides, Jerry is a persistent chap. When I asked him
why he stopped, he said it was because the girl looked like somebody
he was hunting for."

"Who? I can't imagine."

"He said her name was Una Smith."

"Oh, yes. The minx who slipped into Horsham Manor. I told you about
her. But her name isn't Smith."

"Jerry has been looking for her." He laughed. "He thought at first, he
said, he'd see her on the street, but was surprised to find the city
so large. He was a little disappointed. But I think he's forgotten.
There's safety in numbers."

"Then he doesn't know anything yet?"

"Bless your heart! I'd no more think of teaching Jerry filth than I
would my own sister. But by the Lord Harry, he's an inquisitive cuss.
He's learning that life isn't all beer and skittles, has felt the
skinny talons of poverty on his elbow and has heard a truck-driver
swear in the approved New York manner. That in itself was a liberal
education. The worst of it was that the chap happened to be swearing
at Jerry."

He chuckled at the memory.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Jerry jumped over the wheel, caught the man by the collar of his coat
and threw him into the street. He was a big 'un too."

Ballard lingered provokingly in the narrative, which was interesting
me greatly.

"And then?" I asked.

"The fellow rose, covered with slime, looking vicious.

"'What did you mean taking God's name in vain?' says Jerry sternly.

"'I'll show you, you--'

"He came in with a rush, grimy fists flying. Jerry feinted just once,
side-stepped and caught him prettily on the point of the jaw. The blow
was beautifully timed, and the fellow dropped like a log."

"And then?"

"A crowd was gathering and so we ducked--I slipped Jerry into a hotel
entrance near by and out we went by another way." Ballard paused in
the act of lighting a cigarette. "You see, he's already giving battle
to society. A walk abroad with Jerry is an adventure which may end in
metaphysics or the jail. But it won't do, Roger, tilting at wind-mills
like that. He can't make New York like