y her except for my
good. Oh, dear, how I wish money were _extinct_!"

"It is almost, in lots of pockets and other places," I said. "You mean,
you think Mr. Moore--er--chose this way of giving you a _dot_?"

"What else could it be? And the cruel part is, I have already the _dot_.
I have dotted myself. I am engaged to Mr. Caspian."

"The _devil_ you are!" I coarsely exclaimed. But it seemed to comfort
Pat somehow. She gave herself to my arms, and cried into my neck the
hottest tears I ever felt. They might have boiled out of a Yellowstone
geyser, as a sample.

I soothed the child as well as I could. "Don't cry, dear," I begged.
"You didn't on the dock, you know, when you got the bad news."

"Oh, but we were only ruined then!" she choked. "Now we're both of us
nearly married. And if Larry'd only known about me in time, he needn't
have spoiled himself."

I was tempted to assure her that Larry would hardly have taken such a
step for any one's sake except his own. But I knew she'd never quite
forgive me for mentioning clay in connection with her idol's feet.
Instead, I repeated that Larry _should_ be rescued; that I'd talk it
over with Jack, and surely, surely we'd think of a plan. Within my heart
I vowed, and with far more earnestness, to rescue Larry's daughter also.
The very fact that Pat didn't confess to sacrificing herself, however,
warned me from indiscretion. I repeated that I would consult Jack; and a
little snake of an idea wriggled into my head at the same instant. I let
it curl up and get warm. It was not a viper!

Jack said even worse than I had said. He said "Damn!" But when he says
it, my dear, it sounds the most satisfactory word! I _was_ pleased he
took it that way, instead of reminding me it wasn't our business! I felt
encouraged to mention my idea, which was to send a note with our car,
and ask Mr. Storm to lunch at Awepesha. "Three heads are better than
two," said I, "though it mayn't be so with hearts."

"But Storm's still supposed to be Mrs. Shuster's secretary," said Jack.
"If they had any differences after the affair of the telegrams, they've
swallowed the hatchet--I mean, buried it. You remember, Storm stayed at
home a whole day doing proofs, in the middle of the trip----"

"Yes, the day Pat also stayed at home--the same home--to write letters!"

"Well, what I was coming to is this: while he remains in Mrs. Shuster's
service, whatever his motive for doing so may be, he's more or less at
he