"Silas on Fifth Avenue?"
"Sure! And The Holy City, too! Willie stayed out by the barb-wire fence; he didn't dast to go in. When I come out I found him ready to cry. That desperado has sure got the heart of a woman. I reckon he'd commit a murder for that phonograph—he's so full of sentiment."
Fresno spoke sympathetically.
"It's a fortunate thing for you fellows that Speed came when he did. I'm anxious for him to beat this cook, and I hate to see him so careless with his training."
"Careless!" cried Helen.
"What's he done?" inquired Stover.
"Nothing, so far. That's the trouble. He's sure he can win, but" —Fresno shook his head, doubtfully—"there's such a thing as overconfidence. No matter how good a man may be, he should take care of himself."
"What's wrong with his trainin'?" demanded Glass.
"I think he ought to have more rest. It's too noisy around the house; he can't get enough sleep."
"Nor anybody else," agreed Glass, meaningly; "there's too much singin'."