"Please, it's very important."

"Who are you?"

"It's Panhandle Smith," replied Pan.

"That cowboy's drunk and I--no--I'm sorry."

"Louise I'm not drunk, but I am in bad temper. I ask as a friend.
Don't cross me here. I can easy shove in this door."

He heard soft steps, a breathless exclamation, then a key turned in the
lock, and the door opened. The lamplight was not bright, Louise stood
there half dressed, her bare arms and bosom gleaming. Pan entered,
dragging Blinky with him, and closed the door all but tight.

"Louise, it wasn't kind of you to do that," said Pan reproachfully.
"Have you any better friends than Blinky or me?"

"God knows--I haven't," faltered the girl. "But I've been ill--in
bed--and am just getting out. I--I--heard about you--today--and Blink
being with you--drunk."

Pan stepped to the red-shaded lamp on a small table beside the bed, and
turned up the light. The room had more comfort and color than any Pan
had seen for many a day.

He bent searching eyes upon Louise. She did look ill--white, with
great dark shadows under her eyes, but she seemed really beautiful.
What a tragic face it was, betrayed now by lack of paint! Pan had
never seen her like this. If he had needed it, this would have warmed
his heart to her.

"What do you want of me?" she asked, with a nervous twisting of hands
she tried to hide.

Pan took her hands and pulled her a little toward him.

"Louise, you like me, don't you, as a friend or brother?" he asked
gently.

"Yes, when I'm sober," she replied wanly.

"And you like Blinky, here, don't you--like him a lot?"

"I did. I couldn't help it, the damn faithful little cowboy," she
returned. "But I hate him when he's drunk, and he hates me when I'm
drunk."

"Blink, go out and fetch back a bottle--presently. We'll all get
drunk."

The cowboy stared like a solemn owl, then very quietly went out.

"Louise, put something over your shoulders. You'll catch cold. Here,"
said Pan and he picked a robe off the bed and wrapped it round her. "I
didn't know you were so pretty. No wonder poor Blink worships you."

She drew away from him and sat upon the bed, dark eyes questioning,
suspicious. Yet she seemed fascinated. Pan caught a slight quivering
of her frame. Where was the audacity, the boldness of this girl? But
he did not know her, and he had her word that drink alone enabled her
to carry on. He had surprised her. Yet could that account for
so