The chairs were pushed back, cigarettes were lighted, men had their knees crossed.

Then Pettingill got up.
"Gentlemen," he began, "we are here to celebrate the twenty-fifth birthday of Mr.Montgomery Brewster.

I ask you all to join me in drinking to his long life and happiness." "No heel taps!" some one shouted.

"Brewster! Brewster!" all called at once.
"For he's a jolly good fellow, For he's a jolly good fellow!" The sudden ringing of an electric bell cut off this flow of sentiment, and so unusual was the interruption that the ten members straightened up as if jerked into position by a string.
"The police!" some one suggested.

All faces were turned toward the door.