rr," said the unabashed delinquent. The faintest glimmer of
a grin came into his battered eyes. "Sorra a wan o' thim ever lays a
hand to No. 9 bell or I'll have his life!"

"One thing more," continued Barres, smiling in spite of himself at the
Irish of it all. "I am paying Dulcie a salary----"

"Wisha then----"

"Stop! I tell you that she's in my employment on a salary. Don't ever
touch a penny of it again."

"Sure the child's wages----"

"No, they _don't_ belong to the father. Legally, perhaps, but the law
doesn't suit me. So if you take the money that she earns, and blow it
in at Grogan's, I'll have to discharge her because I won't stand for
what you are doing."

"Would you do that, Mr. Barres?"

"I certainly would."

The Irishman scratched his curly head in frank perplexity.

"Dulcie needs clothes suitable to her age," continued Barres. "She
needs other things. I'm going to take charge of her savings so don't
you attempt to tamper with them. You wouldn't do such a thing, anyway,
Soane, if this miserable drink habit hadn't got a hold on you. If you
don't quit, it will down you. You'll lose your place here. You know
that. Try to brace up. This is a rotten deal you're giving yourself
and your daughter."

Soane wept easily. He wept now. Tearful volubility followed--picturesque,
lit up with Hibernian flashes, then rambling, and a hint of slyness in
it which kept one weeping eye on duty watching Barres all the while.

"All right; behave yourself," concluded Barres. "And, Soane, I shall
have three or four people to dinner and a little dancing afterward. I
want Dulcie to enjoy her graduating dance."

"Sure, Misther Barres, you're that kind to the child----"

"_Somebody_ ought to be. Do you know that there was nobody she knew to
see her graduate to-day, excepting myself?"

"Oh, the poor darling! Sure, I was that busy----"

"Busy sleeping off a souse," said Barres drily. "And by the way, who
is that stolid, German-looking girl who alternates with you here at
the desk?"

"Miss Kurtz, sorr."

"Oh. She seems stupid. Where did you dig her up?"

"A fri'nd o' mine riccominds her highly, sorr."

"Is that so? Who is he? One of your German pedlar friends at Grogan's?
Be careful, Soane. You Sinn Feiners are headed for trouble."

He turned and mounted the stairs. Soane looked after him with an
uneasy expression, partly humorous.

"Ah, then, Mr. Barres," he said, "don't be botherin' afther the likes
of us poor