"No, I ain't yellow," returned Anson, "but this thing is getting my goat.
You're sure about that lease?"

"Sure?--say, I thought we'd settled that--"

"Well," pursued Anson, "I don't like this. What have you done with this
other girl--the one you married? She'll be getting us into a row next."

"I married her, didn't I?"

"Yes, but--"

"Well, it's about time she started earning her bread. This Randall woman
hasn't got me scared. You know why I married her. Well, I'm going through
with it. I--"

The rest of his sentence died on his lips. A girl scarcely more than a
child came in from the hotel entrance. She was dressed in a lacey gown, a
size too large for her. The slit skirt displayed her slim ankles in pink
silk stockings. The French heeled shoes were decorated with rhinestone
buckles. In spite of this outrageous dress she was still pretty. It was
Elsie Welcome.

"Hello, kid," said Druce, his manner changing.

"I want to see you, Martin," Elsie replied. Druce noticed that she seemed
deeply agitated. There were signs of recently shed tears on her cheeks.

"I'll run along," said Anson, seeing the girl's agitation. When he was
gone Druce drew the girl into a booth and demanded sharply:

"What the devil do you want and how did you get here?"

"I came in a taxicab," the girl answered.

"A taxi, eh? Well, you're learning. Who paid for it?"

"It isn't paid for, Martin. I wanted to see you and--"

"And what?"

"The man's waiting outside."

Druce flushed angrily. "Look here," he demanded. "Don't play me for a
boob. Get someone else to pay your taxi bills."

"But, Martin, I thought--"

Druce did not wait for the rest of the sentence. With a muttered oath he
rushed outside and paid the waiting chauffeur.

"Now, what do you want?" he demanded when he returned.

Elsie looked at him piteously. "Martin," she said, "I can't stay in that
place any longer."

"Say, don't my aunt treat you all right?"

The girl burst out sobbing. "She isn't your aunt, Martin. She told me so
herself. And that flat--"

"Well, what about it?"

"I--I can't tell you. I can't say it. I never knew until tonight." Elsie
clutched Druce's arm pleadingly. "Martin," she said, "a man came into my
room."

Druce saw that the time had come for him to lay his cards on the table.
He folded his arms and looked at the girl.

"Well?" he demanded coolly.

"He had been drinking and--he took hold of me."

There was a long pause. Druce gazed a