e nine," said
Herbert, bringing forth a fresh cigarette. "I'm surprised at that."

"Are you? Well, you needn't be."

In lighting the cigarette Rackliff was seized by a choking fit of
coughing, which led him to wipe his eyes with a dainty silk
handkerchief.

"I knew I'd catch a beastly cold coming home through the rain the other
night on that old lemon of Hooker's," he said when he could get his
breath. "I hate a cough; it always seems to tear my lungs out. Next
thing I know I'll be throwing one of 'em up."

"You don't look well."

"I have felt better. Never mind, I'll get over it; but, oh! you bet
your life you'll never catch me on a motorcycle again. They are rotten
dirty things anyhow; simply cover you with dust when they don't paste
you with mud. Have a smoke?"

"Don't care if I do," said Phil, accepting the proffered cigarette case
and selecting one. "I don't make a practice of using the things, but I
need something to cheer me up."

Rackliff also supplied a match, and then motioned toward a near-by
stone, urging Phil to sit down and make himself comfortable.

"You haven't looked hilariously cheerful of late," said the city youth.
"Sort of taken your downfall to heart, haven't you?"

"My dud-downfall?"

"Yes. Oh, you're down and out, all right, and you must realize it--you
do, too. Your proficient pupil, Mr. Rodney Grant, has tumbled you off
the pedestal and taken your place."

"I wish you wouldn't tut-talk about him!" cried Phil.

Herbert shrugged his narrow shoulders and smiled.

"You don't like him any better than I do, that's plain. You thought
you liked him once, but you've found him out. He's a conceited pup.
Strange how everybody seems to fall for him, even Lela Barker. Now
she's just about the nicest little clipper around these parts, but
she's got country ideas, and she can't see the difference between a
gentleman and a common cowpuncher--which latter Grant is, and mighty
common, at that. Your sister is Lela's chum; I should think you might
get your sister to open Miss Barker's eyes to that fellow. Couldn't
you show him up somehow and fix it so your sister would put Lela wise
to him?"

"If I could, I wouldn't take all that trouble," replied Phil, who had
seated himself and was puffing at the cigarette in a way that
threatened to demolish it in short order. "He isn't worth it."

"Perhaps not, but I should think you'd want to get back at him after
the turn he's done you. I