I was unable to restrain a shudder at the thought of this revolting contest.

“The piano guy beat him out, though. He’d been at the Palace Hotel for three meals and I guess his appetite was right craving.”

“And afterward?”

“Well, it was like Jackson said: this lad wanted to while away the tejum of a Sunday afternoon, and so he whiled it, that’s all. Purty soon Mis’ Kenner set down to the piano and sung some coon songs that tickled him most to death, and then she got to playing ragtime—say, believe me, Bill, when she starts in on that rag stuff she can make a piano simply stutter itself to death.

{Illustration: MIS’ KENNER SET DOWN TO THE PIANO AND SUNG SOME COON SONGS THAT TICKLED HIM MOST TO DEATH}

“Well, at that the piano guy says it’s great stuff, and so he sets down himself to try it, and he catches on pretty good, I’ll say that for him, so we got to dancing while he plays for us, only he don’t remember the tunes good and has to fake a lot. Then he makes Mis’ Kenner play again while he dances with Mis’ Fosdick that he spilled the beer on, and after that we had some more beer and this guy et another plate of kraut and a few sausages, and Mis’ Kenner sings ‘The Robert E. Lee’ and a couple more good ones, and the guy played some more ragtime himself, trying to get the tunes right, and then he played some fancy pieces that he’d practised up on, and we danced some and had a few more beers, with everybody laughing and cutting up and having a nice home afternoon.

“Well, the piano guy enjoyed himself every minute, if anybody asks you, being lit up like a main chandelier. They made him feel like he was one of their own folks. You certainly got to hand it to him for being one little good mixer. Talk about whiling away the tejum! He done it, all right, all right. He whiled away so much tejum there he darned near missed his train. Eddie Pierce kept telling him what time it was, only he’d keep asking Mis’ Kenner to play just one more rag, and at last we had to just shoot him into his fur overcoat while he was kissing all the women on their hands, and we’d have missed the train at that if Eddie hadn’t poured the leather into them skates of his all the way down to the dee-po. He just did make it, and he told the Judge and Eddie and me that he ain’t had such a good time since he left home. I kind of hated to see him go.”

He here attacked the eggs with what seemed to be a freshening of his remarkable appetite. And as yet, be it noted, I had detected no consciousness on his part that a foul betrayal of confidence had been committed. I approached the point.

“The Belknap-Jacksons were rather expecting him, you know. My impression was that the Honourable George had been sent to escort him to the Belknap-Jackson house.”

“Well, that’s what I thought, too, but I guess the Judge forgot it, or mebbe he thinks the guy will mix in better with Mis’ Kenner’s crowd. Anyway, there they was, and it probably didn’t make any difference to the guy himself. He likely thought he could while away the tejum there as well as he could while it any place, all of them being such good scouts. And the Judge has certainly got a case on Mis’ Kenner, so mebby she asked him to drop in with any friend of his. She’s got him bridle-wise and broke to all gaits.” He visibly groped for an illumining phrase. “He—he just looks at her.”