It was less than a quarter of an hour later--such was the speedwith which Nemesis, usually slow, had overtaken him--that JerryMitchell, carrying a grip and walking dejectedly, emerged fromthe back premises of the Pett home and started down RiversideDrive in the direction of his boarding-house, a cheap, clean, andrespectable establishment situated on Ninety-seventh Streetbetween the Drive and Broadway. His usually placid nervous systemwas ruffled and a-quiver from the events of the afternoon, andhis cauliflower ears still burned reminiscently at therecollection of the uncomplimentary words shot at them by Mrs.

　　Pett before she expelled him from the house. Moreover, he was ina mild panic at the thought of having to see Ann later on and tryto explain the disaster to her. He knew how the news would affecther. She had set her heart on removing Ogden to more disciplinarysurroundings, and she could not possibly do it now that her allywas no longer an inmate of the house. He was an essential factorin the scheme, and now, to gratify the desire of the moment, hehad eliminated himself. Long before he reached the brown-stonehouse, which looked exactly like all the other brown-stone housesin all the other side-streets of uptown New York, the first finecareless rapture of his mad outbreak had passed from JerryMitchell, leaving nervous apprehension in its place. Ann was agirl whom he worshipped respectfully, but he feared her in herwrath.

　　Having entered the boarding-house, Jerry, seeking company in hishour of sorrow, climbed the stairs till he reached a door on thesecond floor. Sniffing and detecting the odour of tobacco, heknocked and was hidden to enter.

　　"Hello, Bayliss!" he said sadly, having obeyed the call.

　　He sat down on the end of the bed and heaved a deep sigh.

　　The room which he had entered was airy but small, so small,indeed, that the presence of any furniture in it at all wasalmost miraculous, for at first sight it seemed incredible thatthe bed did not fill it from side to side. There were however, afew vacant spots, and in these had been placed a wash-stand, achest of drawers, and a midget rocking-chair. The window, whichthe thoughtful architect had designed at least three sizes toolarge for the room and which admitted the evening air in pleasingprofusion, looked out onto a series of forlorn back-yards. Inboarding-houses, it is only the windows of the rich and haughtythat face the street.

　　On the bed, a corn-cob pipe between his teeth, lay Jimmy Crocker.

　　He was shoeless and in his shirt-sleeves. There was a crumpledevening paper on the floor beside the bed. He seemed to be takinghis rest after the labours of a trying day.

　　At the sound of Jerry's sigh he raised his head, but, finding theattitude too severe a strain on the muscles of the neck, restoredit to the pillow.

　　"What's the matter, Jerry? You seem perturbed. You have theaspect of one whom Fate has smitten in the spiritual solarplexus, or of one who has been searching for the leak in Life'sgaspipe with a lighted candle. What's wrong?""Curtains!"Jimmy, through long absence from his native land, was not alwaysable to follow Jerry's thoughts when concealed in the wrappingsof the peculiar dialect which he affected.