'd rather let you see something else--though all my
stuff is bad."

"You wouldn't do any little thing, would you, to brighten this tiredest
hour in the day of a tired business man," complained Dick. "I've really
been a business man to-day, Captain. Worked like the devil--or an
angel--whichever works the harder."

He lit a cigarette and settled with a sigh on the corner of Larry's
desk. Larry regarded him with a stranger and more contradicting
mixture of feelings than he had ever thought to contain: solicitude for
Dick--jealousy of him--and the instinct to protect Maggie. This last
seemed to Larry grotesquely absurd the instant it seethed up in him, but
there the instinct was: was Dick treating Maggie right?

"How was the show last night, Dick?"

"Punk!"

"I thought you said you were to see 'The Jest.' I've heard it's one of
the best things for years."

"Oh, I guess the show's all right. But the company was poor. My company,
I mean. The person I wanted to see couldn't come."

"Hope you had a supper party that made up for the disappointment,"
pursued Larry, adroitly trying to lead him on.

"I sure had that, Captain!"

Dick slid to a chair beside Larry, dropped a hand on Larry's knee, and
said in a lowered tone:

"Captain, I've recently met a new girl--and believe me, she's a
knock-out!"

"Better keep clear of those show girls, Dick."

"Never again! The last one cured me for life. Miss Cameron--Maggie
Cameron, how's that for a name?--is no Broadway girl, Captain. She's not
even a New York girl."

"No?"

"She's from some place out West. Father owned several big ranches. She
says that explains her crudeness. Her crude? I should say not! They
don't grow better manners right here in New York. And she's pretty, and
clever, and utterly naive about everything in New York. Though I must
say," Dick added, "that I'm not so keen about her cousin and her uncle.
I'd met the cousin a few times the last year or two around town; he
belongs here. The two are the sort of poor stock that crops out in every
good family. They've got one merit, though: they don't try to impose on
her too much."

"What is your Miss Cameron doing in New York?"

"Having her first look at the town before going to some resort for the
summer; perhaps taking a cottage somewhere. I say, Captain"--leaning
closer--"I wish you didn't feel you had to stick around this apartment
so tight. I'd like to take you out and introduce you to her."

Larry cou