Way.
On every hand he was hailed as "Bill Carmody," and by the great force
of his personality maintained his universal popularity. Many smiled at
the rumors of his wild escapades--some even envied--a few frowned. If
his father knew he kept his own council--it was his way.

Only one warned him. Ethel Manton, beautiful, imperious, and altogether
desirable, with just the suspicion of a challenge in her daringly
flashing eyes, was the one person in all the world that Bill Carmody
loved. And loving her, he set her high upon a pedestal and entered the
lists with all the ardor of his being. His was the love of desire--the
love of a strong man for his mate, bringing out by turns all that was
best and worst in him.

Yet she remained cold--this girl of his golden dreams. Only at rare
intervals did she unbend and allow him a fleeting glimpse of her very
soul. At such times her eyes grew tender and she seemed very near to
him--and very dear. And then he would tell her of his great love, and
always her answer was the same: She would marry no man who was content
to live upon an allowance. He must make good--must win to the fore in
the business world as he had won in the athletic. And above all he must
forswear the pace!

In vain he explained that business held no interest for him; that it
was no man's game, but a sordid struggle of wits for the amassing of
unneeded gold. In vain he argued that his father, already rich, would,
in the event of their marriage, settle a large amount upon them in
their own right. In answer to her reference to his habits he would
laugh. He was not afraid; _there_ was a man's game!

Of course, once married, all that would be changed. But, pshaw; it is
all in a lifetime! And then he would lightly promise to mend his
ways--a promise that was forgotten within the hour. What do women know
of a strong man's play?

But one woman did know, and, knowing, cared.

CHAPTER II

"BROADWAY BILL"

William Carmody had scarcely completed his careful grooming when, with
a tap at the door, his father entered, closely followed by a rather
burly individual in citizen's clothing, whose jaw was correctly and
artistically swathed in bandages.

The two advanced a few paces into the room and paused. Father and son
regarded each other in silence. At length the older man spoke:

"Where were you last night?"

William flushed at the tone and cast an inquiring glance at the man in
bandages, who awkwardly shifted hi