“Where the devil have you been?” demanded Weimer.  “You don’t deserve to be spoken to at all after quitting us like that.  But Seldon is so good-natured,” he went on, “that he sent us after you.  It was a great success, and he made a rattling good speech, and you missed the whole thing; and you ought to be ashamed of yourself.  We’ve asked half the people in front to supper—­two stray Englishmen, all the Wilton girls and their governor, and the chap that wrote the play.  And Seldon and his brother Sam are coming as soon as they get their make-up off.  Don’t stand there like that, but hurry.  What have you been doing?”

Stuart gave a nervous, anxious laugh.  “Oh, don’t ask me,” he cried.  “It was awful.  I’ve been trying an experiment, and I had to keep it up until midnight, and—­I’m so glad you fellows have come,” he continued, halting midway in his explanation.  “I was blue.”

“You’ve been asleep in front of the fire,” said young Sloane, “and you’ve been dreaming.”

“Perhaps,” laughed Stuart, gayly, “perhaps.  But I’m awake now in any event.  Sloane, old man,” he cried, dropping both hands on the youngster’s shoulders.  “How much money have you?  Enough to take me to Gibraltar?  They can cable me the rest.”

“Hoorah!” shouted Sloane, waltzing from one end of the room to the other.  “And we’re off to Ab-yss-in-ia in the morn-ing,” he sang.  “There’s plenty in my money belt,” he cried, slapping his sides, “you can hear the ten-pound notes crackle whenever I breathe, and it’s all yours, my dear boy, and welcome.  And I’ll prove to you that the Winchester is the better gun.”

“All right,” returned Stuart, gayly, “and I’ll try to prove that the Italians don’t know how to govern a native state.  But who is giving this supper, anyway?” he demanded.  “That is the main thing—­that’s what I want to know.”

“You’ve got to pack, haven’t you?” suggested Rives.

“I’ll pack when I get back,” said Stuart, struggling into his greatcoat, and searching in his pockets for his gloves.  “Besides, my things are always ready and there’s plenty of time, the boat doesn’t leave for six hours yet.”

“We’ll all come back and help,” said Weimer.

“Then I’ll never get away,” laughed Stuart.  He was radiant, happy, and excited, like a boy back from school for the holidays.  But when they had reached the pavement, he halted and ran his hand down into his pocket, as though feeling for his latch-key, and stood looking doubtfully at his friends.

“What is it now?” asked Rives, impatiently.  “Have you forgotten something?”

Stuart looked back at the front door in momentary indecision.

“Y-es,” he answered.  “I did forget something.  But it doesn’t matter,” he added, cheerfully, taking Sloane’s arm.

“Come on,” he said, “and so Seldon made a hit, did he?  I am glad—­and tell me, old man, how long will we have to wait at Gib for the P. & O.?”