trong-minded and would keep him straight. He never
could keep straight on shore. The last time he landed in Liverpool he'd
been out on a two years' voyage. He was paid off one morning, and by the
next he hadn't a cent left, and his watch and compass were gone. He'd
got with some women, and they'd taken everything. He worked his way to
this country on a little passenger boat. Mary was a stewardess, and she
tried to convert him on the way over. He thought she was just the one to
keep him steady. Poor Ole! He used to bring me candy from town, hidden
in his feed-bag. He couldn't refuse anything to a girl. He'd have given
away his tattoos long ago, if he could. He's one of the people I'm
sorriest for.'

If I happened to spend an evening with Lena and stayed late, the Polish
violin-teacher across the hall used to come out and watch me descend the
stairs, muttering so threateningly that it would have been easy to fall
into a quarrel with him. Lena had told him once that she liked to hear
him practise, so he always left his door open, and watched who came and
went.

There was a coolness between the Pole and Lena's landlord on her
account. Old Colonel Raleigh had come to Lincoln from Kentucky and
invested an inherited fortune in real estate, at the time of inflated
prices. Now he sat day after day in his office in the Raleigh Block,
trying to discover where his money had gone and how he could get some of
it back. He was a widower, and found very little congenial companionship
in this casual Western city. Lena's good looks and gentle manners
appealed to him. He said her voice reminded him of Southern voices, and
he found as many opportunities of hearing it as possible. He painted and
papered her rooms for her that spring, and put in a porcelain bathtub in
place of the tin one that had satisfied the former tenant. While these
repairs were being made, the old gentleman often dropped in to consult
Lena's preferences. She told me with amusement how Ordinsky, the Pole,
had presented himself at her door one evening, and said that if the
landlord was annoying her by his attentions, he would promptly put a
stop to it.

'I don't exactly know what to do about him,' she said, shaking her head,
'he's so sort of wild all the time. I wouldn't like to have him say
anything rough to that nice old man. The colonel is long-winded, but
then I expect he's lonesome. I don't think he cares much for Ordinsky,
either. He said once that if I had any