s to his, she was smiling. "But I always take the
Geneva Times," she said, "and I often read that you've been there.
You're a great man in Geneva."

Winthrop nodded gravely.

"Whenever I want to be a great man," he said, "I go to Geneva."

"Why, yes," exclaimed Vera. "Last June you delivered the oration to the
graduating class," she laughed, "on The College Man in Politics. Such an
original subject! And did you point to yourself?" she asked mockingly,
"as the--the bright example?"

"No," protested Winthrop, "I knew they'd see that."

Much to her relief, Vera found that of Winthrop she was no longer
afraid.

"Oh!" she protested, "didn't you say, twelve years ago, a humble boy
played ball for Hobart College. That boy now stands before you? Didn't
you say that?"

"Something like that," assented the District Attorney. "Oh!" he
exclaimed, "that young man who showed me in here--your confederate or
fellow-conspirator or lookout man or whatever he is--told me you used to
be a regular attendant at those games."

"I never missed one!" Vera cried. She leaned forward, her eyes shining,
her brows knit with the effort of recollection.

"I used to tell Aunt," she said, "I had to drive in for the mail. But
that was only an excuse. Aunt had an old buggy, and an old white horse
called Roscoe Conkling. I called him Rocks. He was blind in one eye, and
he would walk on the wrong side of the road; you had to drive him on one
rein." The girl was speaking rapidly, eagerly. She had lost all fear
of her visitor. With satisfaction Winthrop recognized this; and
unconsciously he was now frankly regarding the face of the girl with a
smile of pleasure and admiration.

"And I used to tie him to the fence just opposite first base," Vera went
on excitedly, "and shout--for you!"

"Don't tell me," interrupted Winthrop, in burlesque excitement, "that
you were that very pretty little girl, with short dresses and long legs,
who used to sit on the top rail and kick and cheer."

Vera shook her head sternly.

"I was," she said, "but you never saw me."

"Oh, yes, we did," protested Winthrop. "We used to call you our mascot."

"No, that was some other little girl," said Vera firmly. "You
never looked at me, and I"--she laughed, and then frowned at him
reproachfully--"I thought you were magnificent! I used to have your
pictures in baseball clothes pinned all around my looking glass, and
whenever you made a base hit, I'd shout and shout--and you'