CHAPTER III.
THE MASK BALL.
NICKIE the Kid only observed his agreements and kept honourable promises so long as some material advantage flowed from his complaisance.

Within a month he was again haunting the vicinity of the white mansion.

One night he leaned against the fence and watched a procession of guests alighting from their vehicles.

Splendid motors dashed up, and loads of gaily-dressed ladies and gentlemen quaintly caparisoned were discharged at the great iron gates, and went trooping up the path to the flaring white residence, blazing like a crystal palace in a fairy tale.
Nickie was not exactly envious, but looking through the iron railing at the gay array of lanterns in the vast garden, and the glowing mansion, and hearing the hubbub of cheerful voices and the laughter, he had a dawning sense that respectability, especially well-to-do respectability, had its compensations after all.
He walked to the gate for a better view, and discovered a strange object lying on the path.

It was a false nose, a large, red, boosy nose, with, a length of elastic to hold it in its place.