g out to have the girl back, assented.

Then, K. was anxious about Joe. The boy did not seem to get over the
thing the way he should. Now and then Le Moyne, resuming his old habit
of wearying himself into sleep, would walk out into the country. On one
such night he had overtaken Joe, tramping along with his head down.

Joe had not wanted his company, had plainly sulked. But Le Moyne had
persisted.

"I'll not talk," he said; "but, since we're going the same way, we might
as well walk together."

But after a time Joe had talked, after all. It was not much at first--a
feverish complaint about the heat, and that if there was trouble in
Mexico he thought he'd go.

"Wait until fall, if you're thinking of it," K. advised. "This is tepid
compared with what you'll get down there."

"I've got to get away from here."

K. nodded understandingly. Since the scene at the White Springs Hotel,
both knew that no explanation was necessary.

"It isn't so much that I mind her turning me down," Joe said, after a
silence. "A girl can't marry all the men who want her. But I don't
like this hospital idea. I don't understand it. She didn't have to go.
Sometimes"--he turned bloodshot eyes on Le Moyne--"I think she went
because she was crazy about somebody there."

"She went because she wanted to be useful."

"She could be useful at home."

For almost twenty minutes they tramped on without speech. They had made
a circle, and the lights of the city were close again. K. stopped and
put a kindly hand on Joe's shoulder.

"A man's got to stand up under a thing like this, you know. I mean, it
mustn't be a knockout. Keeping busy is a darned good method."

Joe shook himself free, but without resentment. "I'll tell you what's
eating me up," he exploded. "It's Max Wilson. Don't talk to me about her
going to the hospital to be useful. She's crazy about him, and he's as
crooked as a dog's hind leg."

"Perhaps. But it's always up to the girl. You know that."

He felt immeasurably old beside Joe's boyish blustering--old and rather
helpless.

"I'm watching him. Some of these days I'll get something on him. Then
she'll know what to think of her hero!"

"That's not quite square, is it?"

"He's not square."

Joe had left him then, wheeling abruptly off into the shadows. K. had
gone home alone, rather uneasy. There seemed to be mischief in the very
air.

CHAPTER XII

Tillie was gone.

Oddly enough, the last person to see her bef