God."

Snorky jumped up and caught him in his arms with such genuine emotion
that Skippy was profoundly touched, so touched that he almost made a
clean breast of this affair--almost but not quite.

"What happened? You look all shot to pieces," said Snorky, holding up a
candle and gazing at him in awe.

"It's all over," said Skippy stonily.

"Over."

"She'd have had to give up her career and--and I'm too young yet to
support her."

"Honest, Skippy?" said Snorky, with a lingering doubt.

"Here's all that's left to me now," said Skippy, and he brought forth
the photograph.

CHAPTER XXI

WORLDLY WISDOM OF SKIPPY BEDELLE

WHEN Skippy Bedelle (rage and disillusionment in his heart) had tramped
five weary miles back from the city which sheltered that angel of
perfidy, Miss Mimi Lafontaine, he said to himself on waking the next
morning:

"Well, by the Great Horned Spoon, that's one thing I won't bite at
again." And examining himself in the glass with a new respect--for after
all he had handled the situation with magnificent impertinence and if
the story was to be retailed in the home circles it would never be
introduced by Miss Clara Bedelle--examining himself, then, with a
certain pride and satisfaction he said vaingloriously, "Hurray, I'm
vaccinated!"

"How d'ye mean vaccinated?" said Snorky whose head emerged via the
morning jersey.

"Did I say vaccinated?" said Skippy surprised and cautious.

"You certainly did," said his chum, who observing the rapidity of his
contact with the washbasin, the reappearance of the dicky and the two
strokes of the brush which completed his toilette, added with a sigh of
relief, "I say, old horse, you look more natural."

Skippy immediately returned to the convenient Tina Tanner. He picked up
the statuesquely posed photograph, contemplated it and returned it to
its place with the air of a man on whom a great passion has burned
itself out.

"She was an awfully decent little sort," he said meditatively, "but it
would have been an awful mess if I'd done it."

"Done what?"

"Followed her on the stage."

"Say, whatever made you think you'd succeed on the stage, you chump?"
said Snorky, who always retained a lingering doubt when Skippy grew
confidential.

"Oh, I don't know."

"Well, the way you got off 'Horatius at the Bridge'--"

Skippy stretched his arms and yawned deliciously.

"Gee, but a fellow can make an awful fool of himself," he said, thinking
now n