Stranger or acquaintance made no difference, the welcome to Sheridan was noisily extended, while rough play and hoarse laughter characterized the mass.
Hope paused on the step, even as Dr.Fairbain grasped her hand, dinned by the medley of discordant sounds, and confused by the vociferous jam of humanity.

A band came tooting down the street in a hack, a fellow, with a voice like a fog horn, howling on the front seat.

The fellows at the side of the car surged aside to get a glimpse of this new attraction, and Fairbain, taking quick advantage of the opportunity thus presented, swung his charge to the cinders below.

Bending before her, and butting his great shoulders into the surging crowd, he succeeded in pushing a passage through, thus finally bringing her forth to the edge of the street.
"Hey, there," he said shortly, grabbing a shirt-sleeved individual by the arm.

"Where's Charlie ?" The fellow looked at him wonderingly.
"Charlie?
Oh, you mean the 'Kid'?
Well, he ain't here ter-night; had a weddin', an' is totin' the bridal couple 'round." Fairbain swore discreetly under his breath, and cast an uncertain glance at the slender figure shrinking beside him.