s. But
McCorquodale's companions were a pair of flashily dressed young
"sports" who, thinking they saw a chance for some fun at Kendrick's
expense, had proceeded to tread upon Mr. McCorquodale's professional
pride--McCorquodale, one time known to ringside patrons as "Iron Man"
McCorquodale, one time near middle-weight champion.

"Y'see, it's this way," the ex-pugilist had explained earnestly. "I
aint said nothin' about y'r uncle as aint public anyways. It's in the
papers off an' on, see? An' now another election's comin' down the
pike, y'll have to be gittin' used to all kinds o' spiels. Fac's is
fac's, kid, an' when I says the Hon. Milt aint no sweet-scented
geranium but's out fer all the simoleons he can pick off the little old
Mazuma Tree,--why, I on'y says what I reads an' hears, believe me. You
bein' his nephew aint changin' public opinion none. See?"

Kendrick's anger at this brazenness had prevented him from thinking
clearly. He was getting "touchy" about his uncle's political record of
late and had had occasion to defend it with some heat during certain
discussions among friends; there had been several newspaper attacks
which he had resented greatly also. His uncle's reputation as a public
man he had been Quixotic enough to take to heart as a personal matter
of family honor and, as everyone knows, family honor is a thing to
uphold. He had demanded that McCorquodale retract his statement.
McCorquodale had refused flatly to do so.

One of the two grinning "sports" knew a place where they could settle
it undisturbed--just around the corner in the basement of a pool-room.
It had been a brisk little mix-up while it lasted; but it had not taken
the ex-pugilist long to discover that he was facing the best amateur
boxer Varsity had produced in a number of years and right in the middle
of it he had put on his coat deliberately, to the overwhelming
disappointment of his two friends.

"Nix, you guys!" he had grunted, breathing heavily. "I knows when I'm
up against it. Y'see, I got a date with a Jane to-morra an' I aint
hankerin' to lose me way with no mussed map. Not on y'r tintype!"

Whereupon the "Iron Man" had proceeded to demonstrate his malleability
by assuring Mr. Kendrick that he was ready to agree that the sun rose
in the south and made a daily trip straight north to escape the heat,
if Mr. Kendrick said so. His anxiety to make friends had been
positively funny; but there had been a sincerity in