"Hallo, Bill, old crumpet!" he said.
"Hallo, Archie!"
"I'm so glad you've come," said Lucille. "Bill is telling me all about Spectatia."
"Who?"
"Spectatia. The girl, you know. Her name is Spectatia Huskisson."
"It can't be!" said Archie, incredulously.
"Why not?" growled Bill.
"Well, how could it?" said Archie, appealing to him as a reasonable man. "I mean to say! Spectatia Huskisson! I gravely doubt whether there is such a name."
"What's wrong with it?" demanded the incensed Bill. "It's a darned sight better name than Archibald Moffam."
"Don't fight, you two children!" intervened Lucille, firmly. "It's a good old Middle West name. Everybody knows the Huskissons of Snake Bite, Michigan. Besides, Bill calls her Tootles."
"Pootles," corrected Bill, austerely.
"Oh, yes. Pootles. He calls her Pootles."
"Young blood! Young blood!" sighed Archie.
"I wish you wouldn't talk as if you were my grandfather."
"I look on you as a son, laddie, a favourite son!"
"If I had a father like you!"
"Ah, but you haven't, young-feller-me-lad, and that's the trouble. If you had, everything would be simple. But as your actual father, if you'll allow me to say so, is one of the finest specimens of the human vampire-bat in captivity, something has got to be done about it, and you're
