ous to me!"

She was as blankly hurt as a slapped child. Then she looked away, a
little pulse in her throat beating fast. "Then I won't--try to thank
you," she answered in a very small voice, and stared harder and
harder out the window.

Billy felt that he had accomplished a tremendous stride. "A feeling
of obligation kills a friendship," he told her didactically, "and I
want you to be really my friend."

"I am." Her voice was distinct, though queerly lack-luster. And she
did not look at him again.

He went on: "The Evershams will be in on the boat about seven. From
the station I'll take you straight to the boat, where your stateroom
is surely being kept for you. Then to-morrow your trunks will arrive
from Cook's, and by the time you are through resting, you will be
ready to sally out and meet the world.... I hope my own trunk will
make its appearance, too," he added. "I telegraphed the hotel to
pack my things and send them on."

She made no comment on the obvious haste with which he had left
Cairo. She said slowly, "I want to do a little mathematics now. What
is the shocking sum I owe you?"

He shut his lips in an obstinate line. After a moment she added, "I
can't take _that_, you know."

It struck him as a trifle ludicrous that dollars were so important
among all the rest, but unwillingly enough he understood.

"Won't you just let it stand as it is?" he said under his breath.
"Let me have the whole thing--please."

"I can't."

"You mean you won't?"

"I can't," she repeated inflexibly, and then, with a childish flash,
"Since you dislike me to feel grateful--I should think you would be
glad to let me reduce the debt."

"All right." He spoke gruffly. "Then you owe me what you spent just
now and what your railroad ticket cost. Not a cent more. For what
went before I am absolutely responsible, and I decline to let you
pay _my_ debts."

This time he was inflexible. She repeated, with a spark of
resentment, "It's not fair to let you pay so much----"

"It was _my_ adventure," said Billy firmly.

She said, "Very well," in a voice that puzzled him. He felt she
was annoyed. And he realized more than ever that he could never
take advantage of her indebtedness to make her pay with her
companionship. It was becoming a queer tangle.... He felt they had
suddenly slipped out of tune.... She seemed to be escaping
him--withdrawing ...

He wondered, very unhappily, with no fine glow of altruism at all,
if he had r