e pike.

"Why," he jubilated; "not only do I feed better, and live more
comfortable, and hold up my end with the fellows; but I'm actually
saving money--or you are for me. Here I am, with furniture being paid
for regular every month, and a little woman I'm mad over, and on top of
it money in the bank. How much is it now?"

"Sixty-two dollars," she told him. "Not so bad for a rainy day. You
might get sick, or hurt, or something happen."

It was in mid-winter, when Billy, with quite a deal of obvious
reluctance, broached a money matter to Saxon. His old friend, Billy
Murphy, was laid up with la grippe, and one of his children, playing in
the street, had been seriously injured by a passing wagon. Billy Murphy,
still feeble after two weeks in bed, had asked Billy for the loan of
fifty dollars.

"It's perfectly safe," Billy concluded to Saxon. "I've known him since
we was kids at the Durant School together. He's straight as a die."

"That's got nothing to do with it," Saxon chided. "If you were single
you'd have lent it to him immediately, wouldn't you?"

Billy nodded.

"Then it's no different because you're married. It's your money, Billy."

"Not by a damn sight," he cried. "It ain't mine. It's ourn. And I
wouldn't think of lettin' anybody have it without seein' you first."

"I hope you didn't tell him that," she said with quick concern.

"Nope," Billy laughed. "I knew, if I did, you'd be madder'n a hatter.
I just told him I'd try an' figure it out. After all, I was sure you'd
stand for it if you had it."

"Oh, Billy," she murmured, her voice rich and low with love; "maybe you
don't know it, but that's one of the sweetest things you've said since
we got married."

The more Saxon saw of Mercedes Higgins the less did she understand her.
That the old woman was a close-fisted miser, Saxon soon learned. And
this trait she found hard to reconcile with her tales of squandering.
On the other hand, Saxon was bewildered by Mercedes' extravagance in
personal matters. Her underlinen, hand-made of course, was very costly.
The table she set for Barry was good, but the table for herself was
vastly better. Yet both tables were set on the same table. While Barry
contented himself with solid round steak, Mercedes ate tenderloin. A
huge, tough muttonchop on Barry's plate would be balanced by tiny
French chops on Mercedes' plate. Tea was brewed in separate pots. So was
coffee. While Barry gulped twenty-five cent tea from a large