Bill. "It's a darned sight
better name than Archibald Moffam."

"Don't fight, you two children!" intervened Lucille, firmly. "It's a
good old Middle West name. Everybody knows the Huskissons of Snake Bite,
Michigan. Besides, Bill calls her Tootles."

"Pootles," corrected Bill, austerely.

"Oh, yes, Pootles. He calls her Pootles."

"Young blood! Young blood!" sighed Archie.

"I wish you wouldn't talk as if you were my grandfather."

"I look on you as a son, laddie, a favourite son!"

"If I had a father like you--!"-"Ah, but you haven't,
young-feller-me-lad, and that's the trouble. If you had, everything
would be simple. But as your actual father, if you'll allow me to
say so, is one of the finest specimens of the human vampire-bat in
captivity, something has got to be done about it, and you're dashed
lucky to have me in your corner, a guide, philosopher, and friend,
full of the fruitiest ideas. Now, if you'll kindly listen to me for a
moment--"

"I've been listening to you ever since you came in."

"You wouldn't speak in that harsh tone of voice if you knew all!
William, I have a scheme!"

"Well?"

"The scheme to which I allude is what Maeterlinck would call a
lallapaloosa!"

"What a little marvel he is!" said Lucille, regarding her husband
affectionately. "He eats a lot of fish, Bill. That's what makes him so
clever!"

"Shrimps!" diagnosed Bill, churlishly.

"Do you know the leader of the orchestra in the restaurant downstairs?"
asked Archie, ignoring the slur.

"I know there IS a leader of the orchestra. What about him?"

"A sound fellow. Great pal of mine. I've forgotten his name--"

"Call him Pootles!" suggested Lucille.

"Desist!" said Archie, as a wordless growl proceeded from his stricken
brother-in-law. "Temper your hilarity with a modicum of reserve. This
girlish frivolity is unseemly. Well, I'm going to have a chat with this
chappie and fix it all up."

"Fix what up?"

"The whole jolly business. I'm going to kill two birds with one stone.
I've a composer chappie popping about in the background whose one
ambish. is to have his pet song sung before a discriminating audience.
You have a singer straining at the leash. I'm going to arrange with this
egg who leads the orchestra that your female shall sing my chappie's
song downstairs one night during dinner. How about it? Is it or is it
not a ball of fire?"

"It's not a bad idea," admitted Bill, brightening visibly. "I wouldn't
have thou