'won't you ever learn that with that face of yours
you couldn't hide what you are thinking to save your life?'

For the second time that day Longstreet winked slyly at Howard. His
laughter, as gay as Helen's, bubbled up straight from his soul.

'Helen,' he said as soberly as he might, 'I am afraid that we shall
have to leave you to your own devices for an hour or so. Mr. Howard
and I have a little business together.'

'Oh,' said Helen. She studied her father's face gravely, then turned
toward Alan. She knew all along that her father was planning some sort
of birthday surprise for her, and now she could not but wonder what it
was that had called the cattleman in to Longstreet's aid. For the
thought of the two men really having business together struck her as
quite absurd.

'I have been dying to be alone,' she said quickly. 'There is an
ice-cream shop across the street, and it's so much more comfortable on
a day like this not to have a man along counting the dishes you order.
Good-bye, business men,' and rather than be the one deserted she left
them and ran across the street, vanishing within the inviting door.

'I have already arranged the matter of filing on my claim,' said
Longstreet, turning triumphantly to Howard. 'I saw Bates, George
Harkness's assistant, and he has undertaken to do everything
immediately.'

'I know Bates. He's a good man, better for your work than Harkness
even.' He spoke without a great amount of interest in the subject, and
there was something of downright wistfulness in his look which had
followed Helen across the street.

They walked a short block in silence. Longstreet, glancing at his
companion and noting his abstraction, was glad that there were no
questions to answer. After all, it was going to be very simple to keep
Mrs. Murray's name out of the whole matter. When they came to the
corner and he asked 'Which way?' Howard actually started.

'Guess I was wool-gathering,' he grunted sheepishly. 'We go back this
way.'

They retraced their steps half the way, crossed the quiet street and
turned in at a hardware store. Howard led the way to the tiny office
at the front, whose open windows looked out on the street. A
ruddy-faced man in shirt sleeves sat with his hands clasped behind his
head, his eyes thoughtful. Seeing his callers, he jumped to his feet.

'Put her there, Al, old boy,' he called in a big, booming, good-natured
voice like a young bull's. 'Watched you g