"How do you get bail, Wilkins?"
"You 'ave to find someone as owns real estate in the city, sir, to go on your bond. 'Ow much is it?"
"Five thousand dollars," replied McAllister.
"'Oly Moses!" ejaculated the valet. He regarded his former master with renewed interest.
But the dinner had wrought a change in that hitherto subdued individual. With a valet and running water he was beginning to feel his oats a little. He checked off mentally the names of his acquaintances. There was not one left in town.
He repressed a yawn, and looked at his watch. One o'clock. Just then the gong rang again.
"What in thunder is this, now?"
"Afternoon service, sir. City Mission from one to two-thirty."
"Ye gods!" ejaculated McAllister.
A band of young girls came and stood with their hymn-books along the opposite tier, while a Presbyterian clergyman took the place on the bridge recently vacated by his Episcopal brother. Prayers alternated with hymns until the sermon, which lasted sixty-five minutes.