ation.

As he stood upon the platform awaiting the train he felt a sudden
presentiment of evil, and with a superstition born of his early
experience in gambling, he half decided to turn back. "I 've got a
feeling I ought n't to go," he muttered; "but I guess it's because I 'm
afraid the old man will worry Pert. Still, she seemed to take it calm
enough, and I ought to get there and look after my stuff." He boarded
the train and went steaming off, but he could not get rid of his
bugaboo.

The situation with Checkers at this time was about as follows: Of the
legacy left him, $20,000 had gone for the farm, or fruit ranch, which
he had given Pert. A thousand more had been spent in refitting and
furnishing the house. Most of the wedding expenses, which Checkers had
assumed, Part's presents, an elaborate wardrobe for himself, the
household expenses, and the trip to Chicago, had consumed about another
thousand. The balance, except ten government bonds and a few hundred
dollars in the bank at Clarksville, was on deposit at interest in this
bank which failed--$4,800, for which he held a certificate of deposit.
It was very unfortunate, and the sense of his loss kept growing upon
him as time went on.

Meanwhile Mr. Barlow had taken occasion to lecture Pert on her sinful
extravagance. With pencil and paper he sat before her, and showed her
how within six short months she and Checkers had spent one-tenth of
their fortune, and how with this loss at the bank they were poorer by a
third of all they had ever possessed.

"Figures won't lie, but liars will figure." He knew, but he did not
tell her, that of what was actual expense there would be little cause
for its repetition, and that most of the money expended was visible in
assets of one sort or another. He only made her feel perfectly
miserable, and wrought her up beyond the point of thinking or answering
intelligently.

When he had gone she tried for a while to busy herself about the house,
but she felt a growing lonesomeness--a desire for sympathy and
companionship--and she decided to put on her hat and go down to her
cousin Sadie's.

It was now high noon, and a stifling hot day; but she braved the heat
of the blistering sun, and trudged along the dusty way to her
destination. When she reached the Martins' house she was dizzy and
faint from the heat and the blinding glare.

Judge Martin and Arthur came home to dinner, and both expressed the
greatest sympathy for h