y have robbed me without my knowledge.
Wait for me outside, Bill. I want to talk to you. I'm quite sure
neither of the thieves is here, Captain," concluded Brewster, after
Bill had obeyed the order to step out of the line.

Outside the door the puzzled crook met Brewster, who shook him warmly
by the hand.

"You're a peach," whispered Bill, gratefully "What did you do it for,
mister?"

"Because you were kind enough not to cut my shirt."

"Say, you're all right, that's what. Would you mind havin' a drink with
me? It's your money, but the drink won't be any the worse for that. We
blowed most of it already, but here's what's left." Bill handed Monty a
roll of bills.

"I'd a kept it if you'd made a fight," he continued, "but it ain't
square to keep it now."

Brewster refused the money, but took back his watch.

"Keep it, Bill," he said, "you need it more than I do. It's enough to
set you up in some other trade. Why not try it?"

"I will try, boss," and Bill was so profuse in his thanks that Monty
had difficulty in getting away; As he climbed into a cab he heard Bill
say, "I will try, boss, and say, if ever I can do anything for you jes'
put me nex'. I'm nex' you all de time."

He gave the driver the name of his club, but as he was passing the
Waldorf he remembered that he had several things to say to Mrs. Dan.
The order was changed, and a few moments later he was received in Mrs.
Dan's very special den. She wore something soft and graceful in
lavender, something that was light and wavy and evanescent, and made
you watch its changing shadows. Monty looked down at her with the
feeling that she made a very effective picture.

"You are looking pretty fit this morning, my lady," he said by way of
preamble. "How well everything plays up to you."

"And you are unusually courtly, Monty," she smiled. "Has the world
treated you so generously of late?"

"It is treating me generously enough just now to make up for anything,"
and he looked at her. "Do you know, Mrs. Dan, that it is borne in upon
me now and then that there are things that are quite worth while?"

"Oh, if you come to that," she answered, lightly, "everything is worth
while. For you, Monty, life is certainly not slow. You can dominate;
you can make things go your way. Aren't they going your way now,
Monty"--this more seriously--"What's wrong? Is the pace too fast?"

His mood increased upon him with her sympathy. "Oh, no," he said, "it
isn't that. You are g