"Trouble? What sort? Not illness?"
"No. We're leavin'—been throwed out."
The younger man's face sobered. "Don't joke!" he cried, sharply.
"I ain't joking. Feller insulted Allie and she throwed him out of a window—"
"Exactly! It's in the morning paper."
"They don't seem to think it was reefined, so they—throwed us out."
"Nonsense! Why, it is a corking story, and Allie was splendid—she gave the championship to Herring, who deserved it, thereby delighting every golfer on this side of the Atlantic. Jove! that girl is developing and I'm going to hug her—if there's no window handy! Throw you out? Why, there's some mistake, surely!"
Briskow shook his head; in greater detail he made known the facts. When he had finished his halting recital Calvin Gray's face was flushed with anger, there was a dark frown between his eyes.
"We'll see!" he muttered. "Wait here—or go back and tell Ma to commence unpacking." Then he was gone.
For perhaps ten minutes Gus waited nervously; he was amazed finally to see Gray approaching arm in arm with the manager; both were laughing, the hotel man's face was radiant with good humor. To the departing guest he said, genially: