moment," he said over his
shoulder to George, as he took his belt down from the wall.

The big man strode to the wall and took his hat from a nail.

"I shall not need you, George."

But George merely grinned, and his big teeth flashed at the master. And
in the second place he took up a gun from the drawer and offered it to
Donnegan.

"The gun in that holster ain't loaded," he said.

Donnegan considered him soberly.

"I know it. There'll be no need for a loaded gun."

But once more George grinned. All at once Donnegan turned pale.

"You dog," he whispered. "Did you listen at the door when Nick was
here?"

"Me?" murmured George. "No, I just been thinking."

And so it was that while Donnegan went down the hill with Lou Macon,
carrying an empty-chambered revolver, George followed at a distance of a
few paces, and he carried a loaded weapon unknown to Donnegan.

It was the dull time of the day in The Corner. There were very few
people in the single street, and though most of them turned to look at
the little man and the girl who walked beside him, not one of them
either smiled or whispered.

"You see?" said Donnegan. "You would have been perfectly safe--even from
Lord Nick's ruffians. That was one of his men we passed back there."

"Yes. I'm safe with you," said the girl.

And when she looked up to him, the blood of Donnegan turned to fire.

Out of a shop door before them came a girl with a parcel under her arm.
She wore a gay, semi-masculine outfit, bright-colored, jaunty, and she
walked with a lilt toward them. It was Nelly Lebrun. And as she passed
them. Donnegan lifted his hat ceremoniously high. She nodded to him with
a smile, but the smile aimed wan and small in an instant. There was a
quick widening and then a narrowing of her eyes, and Donnegan knew that
she had judged Lou Macon as only one girl can judge another who is
lovelier.

He glanced at Lou to see if she had noticed, and he saw her raise her
head and go on with her glance proudly straight before her; but her face
was very pale, and Donnegan knew that she had guessed everything that
was true and far more than the truth. Her tone at the door of the post
office was ice.

"I think you are right, Mr. Donnegan. There's no danger. And if you have
anything else to do, I can get back home easily enough."

"I'll wait for you," murmured Donnegan sadly, and he stood as the door
of the little building with bowed head.

And then a murmur came down t