or something; then he'll look at the check again and call the manager,
and in the meantime--"

They left the car at Asbury and street-car'd to Allenhurst, where
they investigated the crowded pavilions for beauty. At four there were
refreshments in a lunch-room, and this time they paid an even smaller
per cent on the total cost; something about the appearance and
savoir-faire of the crowd made the thing go, and they were not pursued.

"You see, Amory, we're Marxian Socialists," explained Kerry. "We don't
believe in property and we're putting it to the great test."

"Night will descend," Amory suggested.

"Watch, and put your trust in Holiday."

They became jovial about five-thirty and, linking arms, strolled up and
down the boardwalk in a row, chanting a monotonous ditty about the sad
sea waves. Then Kerry saw a face in the crowd that attracted him and,
rushing off, reappeared in a moment with one of the homeliest girls
Amory had ever set eyes on. Her pale mouth extended from ear to ear, her
teeth projected in a solid wedge, and she had little, squinty eyes that
peeped ingratiatingly over the side sweep of her nose. Kerry presented
them formally.

"Name of Kaluka, Hawaiian queen! Let me present Messrs. Connage, Sloane,
Humbird, Ferrenby, and Blaine."

The girl bobbed courtesies all around. Poor creature; Amory supposed she
had never before been noticed in her life--possibly she was half-witted.
While she accompanied them (Kerry had invited her to supper) she said
nothing which could discountenance such a belief.

"She prefers her native dishes," said Alec gravely to the waiter, "but
any coarse food will do."

All through supper he addressed her in the most respectful language,
while Kerry made idiotic love to her on the other side, and she giggled
and grinned. Amory was content to sit and watch the by-play, thinking
what a light touch Kerry had, and how he could transform the barest
incident into a thing of curve and contour. They all seemed to have
the spirit of it more or less, and it was a relaxation to be with them.
Amory usually liked men individually, yet feared them in crowds unless
the crowd was around him. He wondered how much each one contributed to
the party, for there was somewhat of a spiritual tax levied. Alec and
Kerry were the life of it, but not quite the centre. Somehow the quiet
Humbird, and Sloane, with his impatient superciliousness, were the
centre.

Dick Humbird had, ever since freshm