The Kendrick house was bright with lights as I reached it, and I was more annoyed than pleased to find Mr. Baldwin busily assisting Miss Kendrick, and directing the servants in the work of clearing up the broken glass and securing the open windows with boards.
Mr. Baldwin recognized me in his most superior way, and assumed his most magnificent airs of proprietorship from the top of the ladder, as he waved a hammer as his baton of command.
"Ah, Hampden," he said with a cool nod, "this is a fine mess your friends have made of things."
"Gracious, me!" exclaimed Miss Kendrick. "Is that the way friends act? I've seen men play some pretty rough pranks in the name of friendship, but I'm sure I never knew them to go so far as they did with Mr. Hampden. It's a mercy he wasn't killed. You should have seen him when he came in from the fracas!"
Mr. Baldwin appeared to be put out of countenance by this railing acknowledgment of my share in the defense of the house, and I judged by his tone that he considered it a reflection on him for being absent in the crisis.
"I had been out of town," he said stiffly, apparently for my enlightenment, "and got in on the eight o'clock boat. Later I heard that your friends were on the war-path, and threatening to burn Nob Hill and Van Ness Avenue. Then I came up here to see if I could be of service, and found that it was all over--except the repairs." And with this attempt to set himself right, he resumed his air of importance.
"Well, it's very lucky you weren't here," said Miss Kendrick. "I don't doubt you would have got your head broken, and you'd never be able to stand up on that ladder if it was going around the way Mr. Hampden's is. Oh," she cried suddenly, "what have you done with that bandage I put over your bump?"
"It came off," I said weakly, bringing the damp and offending rag out of my pocket.
"I believe you took it off," she said with an air of reprimand.
"You can put it on again," I pleaded with meek submission.