CHAPTER VII.
INTRODUCING SPUNK In the soft April twilight Cyril was playing a dreamy waltz when Bertram knocked, and pushed open the door.
"Say, old chap, you'll have to quit your mooning this time and sit up and take notice." "What do you mean ?" Cyril stopped playing and turned abruptly.
"I mean that Will has gone crazy, and I think the rest of us are going to follow suit." Cyril shrugged his shoulders and whirled about on the piano stool.

In a moment his fingers had slid once more into the dreamy waltz.
"When you get ready to talk sense, I'll listen," he said coldly.
"Oh, very well; if you really want it broken gently, it's this: Will has met Billy, and Billy is a girl.

They're due here now 'most any time." The music stopped with a crash.
"A--GIRL!" "Yes, a girl.

Oh, I've been all through that, and I know how you feel.
But as near as I can make out, it's really so.

I've had instructions to tell everybody, and I've told.