uring which we discussed Jerry's plans in despair, I went back to the
Manor to resume my much neglected work.

It was now March. I missed Jerry as I knew I should miss him always at
this season when it had been our custom to fare forth in search of
woodland adventure and the early signs of spring. I wondered if Jerry
in the city could be feeling the call of the wanderlust as I did. I
managed to work a few hours of each day, but my habit of concentration
seemed to fail me, and my thoughts kept recurring unpleasantly to the
ruin Jerry was courting both for his reputation and his spirit. Clean
as he was, he couldn't play too long with pitch and not be defiled. I
heard one day that Briar Hills had just been opened and I pricked up
my ears. Aha! It couldn't be long now before the bird would come
homing.

The notice of this home-coming reached me in the form of a wire.

"Will arrive with party tomorrow. Have six bedrooms prepared for
guests. Will explain when I see you."

Six bedrooms! A house party--in the very midst of his training! I
couldn't understand. A fine hope surged in me. A house party--guests!
Could it be that something had happened to change his plans? Had he
given up his bout with Clancy? I could hardly restrain my impatience
and tried to get Jack Ballard on the telephone. He had left town. It
was very curious; for somewhere in me vague misgivings stirred. What
if--!

The morrow brought the painful solution of my uncertainties. For
toward four o'clock of the afternoon there was a roaring of
automobiles in the drive which brought me to the study window, from
which vantage point I saw Jerry dismounting from the car in front with
three other men, Flynn, Christopher and a large colored man, while
from the other car, a hired machine, by the look of it, four other
figures descended--all unloading suit-cases upon the terrace steps--a
motley crowd in flannel shirts and sweaters, with cropped heads, thick
necks and red hands, all talking loudly and staring up at the towers
of the house as though they expected them to fall on them. This then
was Jerry's house-party--! Thugs, cut-throats, apaches--his pugilist
friends from Flynn's!

[Illustration: "This then was Jerry's house-party--!"]

Jerry hurried along the terrace and met me at the hall door, where he
burst into unseemly laughter. I suppose at the expression of dismay
which must have been written upon my countenance. He seized me by both
hands and led me indo