"Mr. Lightnut, sir, it was the _punch_!" He shook his head. "If you'll excuse me for mentioning--"

"Oh!" I remarked weakly, falling back upon my pillow. "Jove, Jenkins!"

And I just looked at him stupidly--fact!

Jenkins stroked his chin, his eyes fixed somberly above my head. "The demon rum, sir," he said slowly, and using the deep, heavy chest tones like the high-up politicians and expensive lecturers, "is rampant in our fair land--that's what I heard Doctor Splasher remark--and the insid'jus monster is slowly--"

And he went on, but I didn't hear. I was trying to think. So I hadn't been sleep-walking, but had been just plain drunk--and _in her home_!--so jolly well corked, in fact, I hadn't even a dashed glimmer of memory of it. Had been making a spectacle of myself, going all about the house in the wee what-you-call-'em hours of the night and probably--oh, good heavens, probably _singing_!

I dropped my head back upon the pillow.

"Go on," I said. "Tell me _all_!"

"Yes, sir," resumed Jenkins, "as I was saying, you came in with--_you_ know--er--the young fellow. He kinder slouched in, looking a bit sulky.

"'I've been watching for you to get back from the dog-fight,' you says to him; 'sit down, I want to talk to you.' But the young fellow just stood square in the middle of the floor and just kinder scowled black.

"Then you says, pleasant-like: 'I've been talking with a friend of yours, my son, who thinks I haven't treated you quite fair.'

"'O!' says this young fellow, and seems kinder surprised. Then he got red.

"'And so, my boy,' you went on, tightening your gla.s.s as you looked at him, 'if I've been harsh I'm sorry--suppose we start all over again--what do you say? I don't want to cross you in anything if I can help it--I want to _help_ you.'"

My abrupt e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n halted Jenkins an instant, then he proceeded:

"'I say, do you mean that?' asks young Mr. Bi--I _mean_, this young fellow"--Jenkins stirred nervously--"and you says, kinder laughing: 'there's my hand on it!' and then you both shook.

"'One minute,' says the boy, still looking kinder puzzled and uncertain, 'I want to know what about Frances. How do we stand about _that_?'

"You just laughed sorter and went up and clapped him right on the shoulder and you says: 'Why, if you can, my son, just go in and win her.

_I_ don't care!'--and you said it hearty-like. You went on: 'I haven't a word to say--in fact, I'd be only too _glad_ to see you succeed.'"

Here I straightened with almost a screech:

"_What?_ I said that? Oh, now, Jenkins, you--oh, you're mistaken!"

Jenkins eyed me sorrowfully.

"Your words, sir, exactly, and then you went on, kinder persuadingly: 'Why, I haven't meant to stand in your way at all!'"

I groaned.

"Go on!" I breathed through my teeth. Then I straightened forward.

"_What_ did the judge call that punch--what kind?"

"Heidelberg punch, sir,"--a sympathetic pause as I swept my hand through my hair. "Yes, sir, it certainly must be something high--oh, _awful_, sir!"

He went on as I dipped my head at him. "Then this young chap catches you by the hand and he says, 'Why, you're a brick, after all!' And you says: 'Yes, we'll get along better now, my boy, and _you_ want to be mighty grateful to d.i.c.ky Lightnut for it.' And this young fellow says, kinder smiling: 'Indeed, I am!' And then him and you just shook hands again all over."

Jenkins stopped for breath, but I didn't say a word. By Jove, it all made me a bit sick, don't you know. Oh, I must have been maudlin, that's what--_maudlin_. I managed to wag my head to start him off again; couldn't speak, you know!

"Yes, sir. Then you says: 'That's all right, now, my boy; so you run along, because I'm awfully busy. To-morrow we'll talk some more.'

"'Bully!' says the chap. 'Good night, old man!' Then he turns back, kinder smiling sidewise. 'It's sure on the level, is it, that you're going to let me have a clear road with Frances?'

"'Oh, bother Frances!' you says laughing. 'Yes, yes, and when you win her, she'll be to me as my _own_ girl. And I know I'll have her love, too.'

"'What's that?' says the young fellow, kinder frowning. And you says, easy-like, 'Why, we'll just be one happy family.' Then you chuckled like you was mighty pleased and says: 'And I think she is learning to like me pretty well already. Why, do you know what she did to-night? She came right up to me and in the sweetest way kissed me good night.'"

"Oh!" I said, digging my fingers into the bedclothes, "Oh!"

"Yes, sir!" said Jenkins chokily. He went on: "This young fellow just marches right close up to you and says, speaking kinder quiet and his eyes shining, 'You say Frances kissed you?' And you sorter gave a laugh and dug him in the side and you says, 'I do believe the boy is jealous!

Why, yes, you rascal, she certainly did--she kissed me!'

"'Well, it's a lie!' he says back, pointing at you with his finger.

'Because it ain't like her.' And he got closer.

"'See here,' he says, 'have you just been trying to get gay with me to-night? Huh!--well, I'm just going to box your jaws for luck!'

"'What?' you gasps--'what's that?'--and you storms up to him--'Why, you young puppy, do you know who you're talking to?' you says.

"'Bah!' he says, and he just goes up and snaps his fingers in your face.

You chokes kinder, and then you yells at him: 'Why, you young ruffian, I've spanked you before, and I can do it again--'

"'Yah!' he says, making faces at you. '_You_ spanked! You hit me when I wasn't looking. My foot slipped.'

"'Foot slipped, you blanked fool!' you shouts at him, and then--"

Jenkins wiped his forehead--"Then the next thing I see, you mixed."

"Ah!" I breathed with relief. "That's _better_!"

I chuckled. Then suddenly I felt remorseful.

"Where did I hit him this time, Jenkins--did you notice? Was he hurt much?"

Jenkins looked down, avoiding my eyes. "Um, _not_ exactly, sir," he said; "in fact, it was--er--kinder the other way."

I stared, aghast.

"You don't mean, Jenkins--"

Jenkins evidently did! His eyes expressed both pity and embarra.s.sment.

"What he did to you,"--he rolled his glance upward, trying to shape the idea--"I believe, sir, it's what you might call"--his voice dropped--"I believe it's what they _do_ call wiping up the floor with."

I closed my eyes an instant.

"Finish!" I whispered, feebly flipping my hand at him.

"He left then, sir, but the noise brought Wilkes and we helped you up-stairs. You wouldn't go any farther than the door of the judge's bedroom--wanted to tell him, we supposed. When we got that far, I noticed Mr. Jack Billings' door--it's right opposite, you remember, sir--was standing just a little open. He called out very anxious and shrill: 'Oh, _do_ be very careful of the pajamas! My! my! I hope the pajamas are not hurt!'