Dunk was thus challenged.

“I’ll name him in a minute,” he went on, raising his glass on high. “He’s the best friend I’ve got. I give you—Andy Blair!”

“Andy Blair!” was roared out.

“Stand up, Andy!”

He arose, a glass of ginger ale in his hand.

“We’re goin’ drink your health!” said Dunk.

“Thank you!” said Andy.

“Then fill up your glass!”

“It is filled, Dunk. Can’t you see?”

“That’s no stuff to drink a health in. Here, waiter, some real ale for Mr. Blair.”