astly
overgrown person of eighteen, who, at Johnnie's beckoning, abandoned
a fair companion of the moment and came forward as William entered the
gate.

"I want to intradooce you to two of my most int'mut friends, George,"
said Johnnie, with the anxious gravity of a person about to do something
important and unfamiliar. "Mr. Baxter, let me intradooce my cousin,
Mr. Crooper. Mr. Crooper, this is my friend, Mr. Baxter."

The gentlemen shook hands solemnly, saying,

"'M very glad to meet you," and Johnnie turned to Joe Bullitt. "Mr.
Croo--I mean, Mr. Bullitt, let me intradooce my friend, Mr. Crooper--I
mean my cousin, Mr. Crooper. Mr. Crooper is a cousin of mine."

"Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Crooper," said Joe. "I suppose
you're a cousin of Johnnie's, then?"

"Yep," said Mr. Crooper, becoming more informal. "Johnnie wrote me
to come over for this shindig, so I thought I might as well come."
He laughed loudly, and the others laughed with the same heartiness.
"Yessir," he added, "I thought I might as well come, 'cause I'm pretty
apt to be on hand if there's anything doin'!"

"Well, that's right," said William, and while they all laughed again,
Mr. Crooper struck his cousin a jovial blow upon the back.

"Hi, ole sport!" he cried, "I want to meet that Miss Pratt before we
start. The car'll be along pretty soon, and I got her picked for the
girl I'm goin' to sit by."

The laughter of William and Joe Bullitt, designed to express cordiality,
suddenly became flaccid and died. If Mr. Crooper had been a sensitive
person he might have perceived the chilling disapproval in their
glances, for they had just begun to be most unfavorably impressed with
him. The careless loudness--almost the notoriety--with which he had
uttered Miss Pratt's name, demanding loosely to be presented to her,
regardless of the well-known law that a lady must first express some
wish in such matters--these were indications of a coarse nature sure
to be more than uncongenial to Miss Pratt. Its presence might make the
whole occasion distasteful to her--might spoil her day. Both William and
Joe Bullitt began to wonder why on earth Johnnie Watson didn't have
any more sense than to invite such a big, fat lummox of a cousin to the
party.

This severe phrase of theirs, almost simultaneous in the two minds, was
not wholly a failure as a thumb-nail sketch of Mr. George Crooper. And
yet there was the impressiveness of size about him, especially about