'One more with me, Com-mo-dore!' Ah; that's bein' somebody, that is. Commodore Diller! Com-mo-dore Dil-ler."
"Some men acquire greatness," said Jarrod, sympathetically.
"Fact is," remarked the solemn Berwin, "that Diller's a fine sailor. Got a good boat, too. Every race we have, Diller's there."
"Where?" asked Diller, looking up with a puzzled expression.
"Oh, somewhere," said Berwin. "Only yesterday I said to Wilder—"
"Con-found Wilder!" yelled little Stakes, growing red with sudden rage and pounding the table fiercely. "Why should that monster's name be mentioned in the sanctity of the sanctum of this respectable Yacht Club? Wilder's a robber, a thief, a con-man, a—a rascal, and a—a—a—"
"That's all right," interrupted Homperton. "He's an upstairs member, and we've got his ten dollars."
