n what was going on outside.

A new train of thought was taking shape in his brain, as yet rather
indefinite and undeveloped, but quite engaging as a matter for
contemplation.

"Do you know how far it is to Reno?" he asked of the tailor, who
paused in the process of ripping off the collar of the new coat.

"Couple of thousand miles, I guess. Why?"

"Oh, nothing," said Harvey, blinking his eyes curiously. "I just
asked."

"You're not thinking of going out there, are you?"

"My health isn't what it ought to be," said Harvey, staring westward
over the roof of the church down the street. "If I don't get better I
may have to go West."

"Gee, is it as bad as all that?"

Harvey's lips parted to give utterance to a vigorous response, but he
caught himself up in time.

"Maybe it won't amount to anything," he said, noncommittally. "I've
got a little cough, that's all." He coughed obligingly, in the way of
illustration.

"Don't wait too long," advised the kindly tailor. "If you get after it
in time it can be checked, they say, although I don't believe it. In
the family?"

"Not yet," said his customer, absently. "A week from to-day." A
reflection which puzzled the tailor vastly.

Whatever may have been in Harvey's mind at the moment was swept away
forever by the sudden appearance in the shop door of Bobby Nixon, the
"boy" at Davis'.

"Say, Harvey," bawled the lad, "come on, quick! Mrs. Davis is over at
the store and she's red-headed because you've been away for more'n an
hour. She's got a telegram from some'eres and----"

"A telegram!" gasped Harvey, turning pale. "Who from?"

"How should I know?" shouted Bobby. "But she's got blood in her eye,
you can bet on that."

Harvey did not wait for the tailor to strip the skeleton of the Prince
Albert from his back, but dashed out of the shop in wild haste.

Mrs. Davis was behind the prescription counter. She had been weeping.
At the sight of him she burst into fresh lamentations.

"Oh, Harvey, I've got terrible news for you--just terrible! But I
won't put up with it! I won't have it! It's abominable! She ought to
be tarred and feathered and----"

Harvey began to tremble.

"Somebody's doing it for a joke, Mrs. Davis," he gulped. "I swear to
goodness I never had a thing to do with a woman in all my life.
Nobody's got a claim on me, honest to----"

"What are you talking about, Harvey?" demanded Mrs. Davis, wide-eyed.

"What does it say?" cried he, pulling himsel