. But this pet of mine
means more than money. I want to contribute my share to justice just
as you do yours. Who knows, some day it may reward me in a way which
no money could ever repay. You never can tell about such things. Who
knows?"

CHAPTER V

ROSES AND THORNS

Mary's sister was as winsome and fair as she, but to Burke's keen eyes
she was a weaker girl. There was a suggestion of too much attention to
dress, a self-consciousness tinged with self-appreciation.

When she was introduced to Bobbie he could feel instinctively an
under-current of condescension, ever so slight, yet perceptible to the
sensitive young fellow.

"You're the first policeman I've ever met," began Lorna, with a smile,
"and I really don't half believe you are one. I always think of them
as swinging clubs and taking a handful of peanuts off a stand, as they
walk past a corner cart. Really, I do."

Burke reddened, but retorted, amiably enough.

"I don't like peanuts, for they always remind me of the Zoo, and I
never liked Zoos! But I plead guilty to swinging a club when occasion
demands. You know even millionaires have their clubs, and so you can't
deny us the privilege, can you?"

Lorna laughed, and gracefully pushed back a stray curl with her pretty
hand. Mary frowned a bit, but trusted that Bobbie had not noticed the
lack of tact.

"I've seen policemen tugging at a horse's head and getting nearly
trampled to death to save some children in a runaway carriage. That
was on Fifth Avenue yesterday, just when we quit work, Lorna." She
emphasized the word "work," and Bobbie liked her the more for it.
"And, last winter, I saw two of them taking people out on a
fire-escape, wet, and covered with icicles, in a big fire over there on
Manhattan Avenue. They didn't look a bit romantic, Lorna, and they
even had red faces and pug noses. But I think that's a pleasanter
memory than shoplifting from peanut stands."

Lorna smiled winningly, however, and sat down, not without a decorative
adjustment of her pretty silk dress. Bobbie forgave her, principally
because she looked so much like Mary.

They chatted as young people will, while old Barton mumbled and studied
over his drawings, occasionally adding a detail, and calculating on a
pad as though he were working out some problem in algebra.

Lorna's chief topic was the theater and dancing.

Mary endeavored to bring the conversation around to other things.

"I have to admit