on you are
accountable to no one but Mr. Hambleton."

"I'm his man," said Mr. Hand simply. "I'd do anything for him." He
turned away with his old-time puzzling manner, half deferential, half
indifferent.

And so Mr. Straker was ready to depart for New York at last, leaving
Agatha, much against his will, to "complete her recovery" at Ilion. At
least, that was the way he felt in duty bound to put it.

"You have found a substitute now," Agatha urged. "It is only fair to
let her have a chance. A week, more or less, can not make any
difference, now that I've broken so many engagements already. I'll
come back later and make a fresh start."

"You stay up here and New York'll forget you're living!" growled Mr.
Straker.

"Not if you continue to be my manager," said Agatha.

"If I'm to be your manager, I ought never to let you out of my sight
for a minute. It's too dangerous."

CHAPTER XXIII

JIMMY MUFFS THE BALL

It will sometimes happen that young gentlemen, skipping confident, even
under their lucky star, will get a fall. Fortune had been too constant
to Jimmy not to be ready to turn her fickle face away the moment he
wasn't looking. But such is the rashness born of success and a
bounding heart, that young blood leaps to its doom, smiling, as it
were, on the faithless lady's back.

Jimmy had no forebodings, but rioted gorgeously in returning health, in
a whole pack of new emotions, and in what he supposed to be his lady's
favor. Aleck, more philosophical, took his happiness with a more quiet
gusto, not provoking the frown of the gods. But for Jim the day of
reckoning was coming.

One day Aleck joined him, walking up and down the porch. Jim was in
one of his boyish, cocksure moods.

"I know what you're going to say," he began, before Aleck could spring
his news. "You're going to marry the princess."

"Just so," said Aleck. "How'd you know? Clairvoyance?"

"Nope."

"Well, you needn't look so high and mighty about it, old man. Why
don't you do the same thing yourself? Then we'll have a double
wedding."

"I've thought of that," said Jim.

As the two men talked, Agatha and Melanie, both dressed in white,
strolled side by side down the garden path toward the wall. They were
deep in conversation, their backs turned toward the veranda.

"I don't see that they look so much alike," announced Jim, who had but
recently learned all the causes and effects of the Chatelard business.
Aleck's