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 that little prank would of brought this frolic to a quick close and he fidgeted in his seat like a inmate of a kindergarten. He couldn't of enjoyed the play no less had it been in the Siamese language and the start of the last act was the signal for him to blow to the back of the theatre so's to be the first one to hit the great outdoors when the curtain come down.

The next time I seen him was three in the a. m. at our inn and he wasn't fit to be at large, no foolin'! No unexperienced young wife ever sit up anxiously waitin' for a wanderin' bitter-half like I was waitin' for the return of Kid Roberts and his set, white face was just a mirror of what had happened. It was no different than a baker's dozen times before—peace conferences between the Kid and Dolores was about as successful as they'd be between puss and little mousie. At first he was as untalkative as our mutual friend, Mr. Oyster, but he had to get matters off his chest to somebody and as I'm by all means somebody, why, he soon give me a punch-by-punch account of the battle.

Kid Roberts had dashed madly up to the big marble temple on Fifth Avenue where his wife was gamely tryin' to make the best of a million-dollar income with her father. The Kid's first imitation was a attempt to fold her in his manly arms, but the fair Dolores had different plans and cleverly ducked the clinch. Before anything as refreshin' as that could happen, Kid Roberts had to pass a few simple tests of husbandly devotion. The Kid was willin', but test number one ruined everything! Like I'd figured, Dolores demand-