o spent money like water and was too brave to fight. Then
dad called for his check to pay his bill, and when he felt in his pocket
for his roll of bills, he hadn't a nickel and the woman, when she was in
his arms, weeding with one hand, had gone through dad's pockets with the
other. Dad felt for his watch, to see what time it was, and his watch
was gone, and the waiter was waiting for the money and dad tried to
explain that he had been buncoed, and the head waiter came and begun to
act sassy, and then they called a policeman to stay by us till the money
was produced, and everybody at the other tables laughed, and dad turned
blue, and I thought he would have a fit. Finally, the guide began to
talk, and the result was that a policeman went home with us, and dad
found money enough to pay the bill, but he talked language that caused
the landlady to ask us to find a new place.

[Illustration: Tried to explain that he had been buncoed 148]

The next morning the guide showed up with an officer who had a warrant
for dad for hugging a woman in a public cafe, and it seemed as though we
were in for it, but the guide said he could settle the whole business
by paying the officer $20, and dad paid it and I think the guide and the
officer divided the money. Say, this is the greatest town we have struck
yet for excitement, and I guess dad will not have a chance to think of
his sickness.

This morning we went into a big department store, and, by gosh! we
found the count that dad was going to fight was a floor-walker, and
the countess was behind a counter selling soap. When dad saw the count
leering at him, he put his hand on his pistol pocket and yelled a
regular cowboy yell, and the count rushed down into the basement, the
soap countess fainted, and the police took dad to the police station,
and all day the guide and I have been trying to get him out on bail.
If we get dad out of this we are going to put a muzzle on him. Well, if
anyone asks you if I am having much of a time abroad, you can tell them
the particulars.

P. S.--We got dad out for $20 and costs, and he says he will blow Paris
up before night. We are going up to the top of the Eiffel tower this
afternoon, to count our money, as dad dasscnt take out his pocketbook
anywhere on the ground for fear of being robbed.

Yours full of frogs.

Hennery.

CHAPTER XII.

The Bad Boy's Second Letter from Paris--Dad Poses as a
Mormon Bishop and Has to Be Rescued--