e took forward. Barbara
Drew loved Brewster, but she was going to make him pay dearly for the
brief lapse her composure had experienced. When next she spoke she was
again the Miss Drew who had been trained in the ways of the world, and
not the young girl in love.

"I care for you a great deal, Monty," she said, "but I'm wondering
whether I care enough to--to marry you."

"We haven't known each other very long, Babs," he said, tenderly, "but
I think we know each other well enough to be beyond wondering."

"It is like you to manage the whole thing," she said, chidingly. "Can't
you give me time to convince myself that I love you as you would like,
and as I must love if I expect to be happy with the man I marry?"

"I forgot myself," he said, humbly.

"You forgot me," she protested, gently, touched by this sign of
contrition. "I do care for you, Monty, but don't you see it's no little
thing you ask of me? I must be sure--very sure--before I--before--"

"Don't be so distressed," he pleaded. "You will love me, I know,
because you love me now. This means much to me, but it means more to
you. You are the woman and you are the one whose happiness should be
considered. I can live only in the hope that when I come to you again
with this same story and this same question you'll not be afraid to
trust yourself to me."

"You deserve to be happy for that, Monty," she said, earnestly, and it
was with difficulty that she kept her eyes from wavering as they looked
into his.

"You will let me try to make you love me?" he asked, eagerly.

"I may not be worth the struggle."

"I'll take that chance," he replied.

She was conscious of disappointment after he was gone. He had not
pleaded as ardently as she had expected and desired, and, try as she
would, she could not banish the touch of irritation that had come to
haunt her for the night.

Brewster walked to the club, elated that he had at least made a
beginning. His position was now clear. Besides losing a fortune he must
win Barbara in open competition.

At the theater that evening he met Harrison, who was in a state of
jubilation.

"Where did you get that tip?" asked he.

"Tip? What tip?" from Brewster.

"On the prize-fight?"

Brewster's face fell and something cold crept over him.

"How did--what was the result?" he asked, sure of the answer.

"Haven't you heard? Your man knocked him out in the fifth
round--surprised everybody."

CHAPTER X

NAPOLEON OF FI