ruined her life. You let her suffer.

She might have died for all of you. She nursed your child and never whispered the name of its father. Sam Miller is charging himself with the keep of your daughter. Do you think she hasn't paid a hundred times for her mistake? Now, by God, keep your mouth shut! Be decent enough not to fling mud at her, you of all men.”

James shrugged his shoulders and turned away in petulant disgust. “I see. You've heard her side of it and you've made up your mind. All right. I've nothing more to say.”

"I've never heard her side of it. Her own mother doesn't know the truth. Sam didn't know it till to-day. But I know her-and now I know you."

"That's no way to talk, Jeff. I admit I did wrong. Can a man say more than that? Do you want me to crawl on my hands and knees?”

"It's easy for you to forgive yourself." "Maybe you think I haven't suffered too. I've lain awake nights worrying over this."

"Yes. For fear you might be found out."

"I intended to look out for the girl, but she disappeared without letting me know where she was going. What could I do?" The lawyer was studying his face very carefully in the glass. "My face is a sight. It will be weeks before that eye is fit to be seen."

Jeff turned away and left him. He walked to

his rooms and found his uncle waiting for him. Robert Farnum had sold out his interests in Arkansas and returned to Verden with the intention of buying a small mill in the vicinity. Meanwhile he had the apartment next to the one used by his nephew.

"Seen anything of James lately?" he inquired as they started down the street to dinner.

"Yes. I saw him to-day. He's leaving town for a week or so."

"On business, I suppose. He didn't mention it when I saw him Wednesday."

"It's a matter that came up suddenly, I understand."

The father agreed proudly. There were moments when he had doubts of James, but he always stifled them by remembering what a splendid success he was. "Probably something nobody else could attend to but him."

"Exactly."

"It's amazing how that boy gets along. His firm has the cream of the corporation business of Verden. I never saw anything like it."

The younger man assented, rather wearily. Somehow to-night he did not feel like sounding the praises of James.

His uncle's kindly gaze rested on him. "Tired, boy?"

"I think I am a little. I'll be all right after we've had something to eat."

But when your arms are full of girl and fluff
You hide your nerve behind a yard of grin;
You'd spit into a bulldog's face, or bluff

A flock of dragons with a safety pin.

Life's a slow skate, but love's the dopey glim
That puts a brewery horse in racing trim.
-WALLACE IRWIN.

CHAPTER XXII

Canaries Sing for the Hero

I

James Farnum had been back in Verden twentyfour hours. A few little scars still decorated his handsome visage, but he explained them away with the story of a motor car accident. Just now he was walking to the bank, and he had spoken his piece five times in a distance of three blocks. From experience he was getting letter perfect as to the details. Even the idiotic joke about the clutch seemed now a necessary part of the recital.

It was just as he was crossing Powers that a motor car whirled around the corner and down upon a man descending from a street car. The chauffeur honked wildly and rammed the brakes home. Simultaneously James leaped, flinging his weight upon the man standing dazed in the path of the automobile. The two went down together, and for a moment Farnum knew only a crash of the senses.

He was helped to his feet. Voices, distant and detached, asked whether he was hurt. Blood trickled into his eyes from a cut in the head. It came to him oddly enough that his story about the motor car accident would now be true.

A slender figure in gray slipped swiftly past him and knelt beside the still shape lying on the asphalt.

"Bring water, Roberts!"

James knew that clear, sweet voice. It could belong only to Alice Frome.

"Are you much hurt, Mr. Farnum?"

"No, I think not-a cut over my eye and a few bruises."

"I'm so glad. But this poor old man-I'm afraid he's badly hurt."

"Was he run over?"

"No. You saved him from that. You don't know him, do you?"

The lawyer looked at the unconscious man and could not repress a start. It was his father. For just an eyebeat he hesitated before he said, "I've seen him before somewhere."

"We must take him to the hospital. Isn't there a doctor here? Someone run for a doctor." The young woman's glance swept the crowd in appeal.

"I'll take care of him. Better get away before the crowd is too large, Miss Frome."

"No. It was our machine did it. Oh, here's a doctor."

A pair of lean, muscular shoulders pushed through the press after the doctor. "Much hurt, James?" inquired their owner.

"No. For heaven's sake, get Miss Frome away, Jeff," implored his cousin.

"Miss Frome!" Jeff stepped forward with an exclamation.

The young woman looked up. She was kneeling in the street and supporting the head of the wounded man. Her face was almost as bloodless as his.

"We almost ran him down. Your cousin jumped to save him. He isn't dead, doctor, is he?"

Jeff turned swiftly to his cousin and spoke in a low voice. "It's your father."

The lawyer pushed forward with a manner of authority.

"This won't do, doctor. The crowd's growing and we're delaying the traffic. Let us lift him into the machine and take him to the hospital."

"Very good, Mr. Farnum."

"Doctor, will you go with him to the hospital? And Jeff . . . . you, too, if you please."

A minute later the car pushed its way slowly through the crush of people and disappeared. James was left standing on the curb with Alice. He spoke brusquely. "Someone call a cab, please. . . I'll send you home, Miss Frome." "No, to the hospital," she corrected. "I couldn't go home now without knowing how he is."