a little constrained silence.

"Bronson examined me--and said I'd live to be eighty," added Lane,
with dry humor.

"You're a liar!" burst out Blair.

On Red Payson's worn face a faint smile appeared. "Carry on, Dare."

Then Blair fell to questioning Lane as to all the news he had heard,
and people he had met.

"So Manton turned you down cold," said Blair, ponderingly.

"I didn't get to see him," replied Lane. "He sent out word that my old
job was held by a girl who did my work better and at less pay."

The blood leaped to Blair's white cheek.

"What'd you say?" he queried.

"Nothing much. I just trailed out.... But the truth is, Blair--I
couldn't have stood that place--not for a day."

"I get you," rejoined Blair. "That isn't the point, though. I always
wondered if we'd find our old jobs open to us. Of course, I couldn't
fill mine now. It was an outside job--lots of walking."

So the conversation see-sawed back and forth, with Red Payson
listening in languid interest.

"Have you seen any of the girls?" asked Blair.

"I met Mel Iden," replied Lane.

"You did? What did she--"

"Mel told me what explained some of your hints."

"Ahuh! Poor Mel! How'd she look?"

"Greatly changed," replied Lane, thoughtfully. "How do you remember
Mel?"

"Well, she was pretty--soulful face--wonderful smile--that sort of
thing."

"She's beautiful now, and sad."

"I shouldn't wonder. And she told you right out about the baby?"

"No. That came out when she said I couldn't call on her, and I wanted
to know why."

"But you'll go anyhow?"

"Yes."

"So will I," returned Blair, with spirit. "Dare, I've known for over a
year about Mel's disgrace. You used to like her, and I hated to tell
you. If it had been Helen I'd have told you in a minute. But Mel....
Well, I suppose we must expect queer things. I got a jolt this
morning. I was pumping my sister Margie about everybody, and, of
course, Mel's name came up. You remember Margie and Mel were as thick
as two peas in a pod. Looks like Mel's fall has hurt Margie. But I
don't just _get_ Margie yet. She might be another fellow's sister--for
all the strangeness of her."

"I hardly knew _my_ kid sister," responded Lane.

"Ahuh! The plot thickens.... Well, I couldn't get much out of Marg.
She used to babble everything. But what little she told me made up
in--in shock for what it lacked in volume."

"Tell me," said Lane, as his friend paused.

"Nothing doing." ... And turn