miring fingers on the afternoon that the crayon-drawing had been made.
"That puddin'!" cried Gunboat, with a touch of ecstasy. "Why, that guy tried to pull the soft stuff with Ruby last winter, but nothin' put me wise until it was six months too late." He fell to pacing the studio-rug, as though it were a roped ring, with significant undulatory movement of the shoulders. "Say, lady, what d' yuh want me to do to that cuff-shooter? Blot 'im out?"
There was a hard light in the pagan young eyes of the girl in black.
"Yes," she announced, without hesitation.
"Then he'll get his!" affirmed the other, just as promptly.
"I want you to give him a lesson that he'll never, never forget," she explained, a little paler than usual. "I want you to show him it isn't safe to insult defenseless girls."
"Oh, I'll show 'im!" announced Gunboat, with his chin out and his heels well apart. "He'll know something when I get
