he advised, in the tone a father would have
used toward two refractory boys. "You have been acting boorishly and
disgracefully all evening. It was you who directed me wrong, to-day.
You have not, at any time since I first met you, acted like gentlemen;
I should be sorry to think this country held many such brainless
louts." He turned inquiringly toward Charming Billy and nodded his
head toward the door. Billy, stooping unsteadily for his hat which he
discovered under his feet, followed him meekly out.

CHAPTER VII.

"_Till Hell's a Skating-rink._"

Charming Billy opened his eyes slowly, but with every sense at the
normal degree of alertness; which was a way he had, born of light
sleeping and night-watching. He had slept heavily, from the feel of
his head, and he remembered the unwisdom of drinking four glasses of
whisky and then changing irresponsibly to beer. He had not undressed,
it would seem, and he was lying across the middle of a bed with his
spurred boots hanging over the edge. A red comforter had been thrown
across him, and he wondered why. He looked around the room and
discovered Mr. Dill seated in a large, cane rocker--which was
unquestionably not big enough for his huge person--his feet upon
another chair and his hands folded inertly on his drawn-up knees. He
was asleep, with his head lying against the chair-back and his face
more melancholy than ever and more wistful. His eyes, Billy observed,
were deep-sunk and dark-ringed. He sat up suddenly--did Billy, and
threw off the cover with some vehemence. "Darn me for a drunken
chump!" he exclaimed, and clanked over to the chair.

"Here, Dilly"--to save the life of him he could not refrain from
addressing him so--"why in thunder didn't yuh kick me awake, and make
me get off your bed? What did yuh let me do it for--and you setting up
all night--oh, this is sure a hell of a note!"

Mr. Dill opened his eyes, stared blankly and came back from his
dreaming. "You were so--so impatient when I tried to get you up," he
explained in a tired voice. "And you had a way of laying your hands on
your revolver when I insisted. It seems you took me for a shepherd
and were very unfriendly; so I thought it best to let you stay as you
were, but I'm afraid you were not very comfortable. One can rest so
much better between sheets. You would not," he added plaintively,
"even permit me to take your boots off for you."

Charming Billy sat down upon the edge of the bed, all