owingly
proud of having the prettiest girl in The Corner upon his arm and so
conscious of being himself probably the finest-looking man that he
escaped conceit, it might almost be said, by his very excess of it.

Upon this splendid individual, then, the obscure Donnegan bent his gaze.
He saw the dancers pause and scatter as the music ended, saw them drift
to the tables along the edges of the room, saw the scurry of waiters
hurrying drinks up in the interval, saw Nelly Lebrun sip a lemonade, saw
Jack Landis toss off something stronger. And then Donnegan skirted
around the room and came to the table of Jack Landis at the very moment
when the latter was tossing a gold piece to the waiter and giving a new
order.

Prodigal sons in the distance of thought are apt to be both silly: and
disgusting, but at close hand they usually dazzle the eye. Even the cold
brain of Donnegan was daunted a little as he drew near.

He came behind the chair of the tall master of The Corner, and while
Nelly Lebrun stopped her glass halfway to her lips and stared at the
ragged stranger, Donnegan was whispering in the ear of Jack Landis:
"I've got to see you alone."

Landis turned his head slowly and his eye darkened a little as he met
the reddish, unshaven face of the stranger. Then, with a careless shrug
of distaste, he drew out a few coins and poured them into Donnegan's
palm; the latter pocketed them.

"Lou Macon," said Donnegan.

Jack Landis rose from his chair, and it was not until he stood so close
to Donnegan that the latter realized the truly Herculean proportions of
the young fellow. He bowed his excuses to Nelly Lebrun, not without
grace of manner, and then huddled Donnegan into a corner with a wave of
his vast arm.

"Now what do you want? Who are you? Who put that name in your mouth?"

"She's in The Corner," said Donnegan, and he dwelt upon the face of Jack
Landis with feverish suspense. A moment later a great weight had slipped
from his heart. If Lou Macon loved Landis it was beyond peradventure
that Landis was not breaking his heart because of the girl. For at her
name he flushed darkly, and then, that rush of color fading, he was left
with a white spot in the center of each cheek.

13

First his glance plunged into vacancy; then it flicked over his shoulder
at Nelly Lebrun and he bit his lip. Plainly, it was not the most welcome
news that Jack Landis had ever heard.

"Where is she?" he asked nervously of Donnegan