can you?"

And Brian knew in his heart that she was right.

"So, you see," Betty Jo continued, "the only possible way to do is to
go right along just as if nothing had happened. And there is this final
consideration,--which must be a dark secret between you and me,--when
the book is finished, you must see to it that every penny that comes
from it goes to Auntie Sue until she is paid back all that she lost
through you. Now, isn't that pretty fine 'considering,' Mr. Burns?"

And Brian was convinced that it was. "But," he suggested, "the book may
not earn anything. Nothing that I ever wrote before did."

"You never wrote one before just like this, did you?" came the very
matter-of-fact answer. "And, besides, if your book never earns a cent,
it will do Auntie Sue a world more good than your going to prison for
her. That would be rather silly, now that you think of it, wouldn't it?
And now that we have our conspiracy all nicely conspired, we must hurry
to the house before that man arrives with my things."

She went for the manuscript as she spoke. "See," she cried, "it is quite
dry, and not a bit the worse for its temperamental experience!" She
laughed gleefully.

"But, Miss Williams," exclaimed Brian, "I--I--can't understand you!
You don't seem to mind. What I have told you about myself doesn't seem
to--to--make any difference to you--I mean in your attitude toward me."

"Oh, yes, it does," she returned. "It makes me very interested in you,
Mr. Burns."

"But, how can you have any confidence--How can you help me with my book
now that you know what I am?" he persisted, for he was sincerely puzzled
by her apparent indifference to the revelation he had made of his
character.

"Auntie Sue,"--she answered,--"just Auntie Sue. Come,--we must go."

"How in the world can I ever face her!" groaned Brian.

"You won't get the chance at her, for awhile, with me around;--she will
be so busy with me that she won't notice anything wrong with you. So
you will get accustomed to the conspiracy feeling before you are even
suspected of conspiring. You know, when one has once arrived at the
state of not feeling like a liar, one can lie with astonishing success.
Haven't you found it so?"

They laughed together over this as they went toward the house.

As they reached the porch, Betty Jo whispered a last word of
instruction: "You better find Judy, and fix her the first thing;--fix
her good and hard. Here is Auntie Sue now. Don't wor