an.

"Hefahdollah."

"I'll never be able to look you in the face again," protested Condy.
"I'll pay you back to-night. I will! I'll send it up by a messenger
boy."

"Then you WOULD be a buffoon."

"Don't!" he exclaimed. "Don't, it humiliates me to the dust."

"Oh, come along and don't be so absurd. It must be after five."

Half-way down the brass-bound stairs, he clapped his hand to his head
with a start.

"And NOW what is it?" she inquired meekly.

"Forgotten, forgotten!" he exclaimed. "I knew I would forget
something."

"I knew it, you mean."

He ran back, and returned with the great bag of crackers, and thrust it
into her hands. "Here, here, take these. We mustn't leave these," he
declared earnestly. "It would be a shameful waste of money;" and in
spite of all her protests, he insisted upon taking the crackers along.

"I wonder," said Blix, as the two skirted the Plaza, going down to
Kearney Street; "I wonder if I ought to ask him to supper?"

"Ask who--me?--how funny to--"

"I wonder if we are talked out--if it would spoil the day?"

"Anyhow, I'm going to have supper at the Club; and I've got to write my
article some time to-night."

Blix fixed him with a swift glance of genuine concern. "Don't play
to-night, Condy," she said, with a sudden gravity.

"Fat lot I can play! What money have I got to play with?"

"You might get some somewheres. But, anyhow, promise me you won't
play."

"Well, of course I'll promise. How can I, if I haven't any money? And
besides, I've got my whaleback stuff to write. I'll have supper at the
Club, and go up in the library and grind out copy for a while."

"Condy," said Blix, "I think that diver's story is almost too good for
'The Times.' Why don't you write it and send it East? Send it to the
Centennial Company, why don't you? They've paid some attention to you
now, and it would keep your name in their minds if you sent the story
to them, even if they didn't publish it. Why don't you think of that?"

"Fine--great idea! I'll do that. Only I'll have to write it out of
business hours. It will be extra work."

"Never mind, you do it; and," she added, as he put her on the cable
car, "keep your mind on that thirty-thousand-word story of adventure.
Good-by, Condy; haven't we had the jolliest day that ever was?"

"Couldn't have been better. Good-by, Blix."

Condy returned to his club., It was about six o'clock. In response to
his question, the hall-bo