r. Fosdick," he said, "I just answered that question for you."

"Yes, I know. But if you were in my place you might like to have him
answer it. I don't mean to be offensive, but business is business, and,
after all, this is a business talk. So--"

The Captain interrupted. "So we'll talk it in a business way, eh?" he
snapped. "All right. Al, what Mr. Fosdick means is had you cal'lated
that, if you married his daughter, maybe her dad's money might help you
and her to keep goin'? To put it even plainer: had you planned some on
her bein' a rich girl?"

Fosdick looked annoyed. "Oh, I say, Snow!" he cried. "That's too strong,
altogether."

"Not a mite. It's what you've had in the back of your head all along.
I'm just helpin' it to come out of the front. Well, Al?"

The red spots were burning in the Speranza cheeks. He choked as he
answered.

"No," he cried fiercely. "Of course I haven't planned on any such thing.
I don't know how rich she is. I don't care. I wish she was as poor
as--as I am. I want HER, that's all. And she wants me. We don't either
of us care about money. I wouldn't take a cent of your money, Mr.
Fosdick. But I--I want Madeline and--and--I shall have her."

"In spite of her parents, eh?"

"Yes. . . . I'm sorry to speak so, Mr. Fosdick, but it is true. We--we
love each other. We--we've agreed to wait for each other, no matter--no
matter if it is years and years. And as for the money and all that, if
you disinherit her, or--or whatever it is they do--we don't care. I--I
hope you will. I--she--"

Captain Zelotes' voice broke in upon the impassioned outburst.

"Steady, Al; steady, son," he cautioned quietly. "I cal'late you've said
enough. I don't think any more's necessary. You'd better go back to your
desk now."

"But, Grandfather, I want him to understand--"

"I guess likely he does. I should say you'd made it real plain. Go now,
Al."

Albert turned, but, with a shaking hand upon the doorknob, turned back
again.

"I'm--I--I'm sorry, Mr. Fosdick," he faltered. "I--I didn't mean to say
anything to hurt your feelings. But--but, you see, Madeline--she and
I--we--"

He could not go on. Fosdick's nod and answer were not unkindly. "All
right, Speranza," he said, "I'm not offended. Hope I wasn't too blunt,
myself. Good-day."

When the door had closed behind the young man he turned to Captain Lote.

"Sorry if I offended you, Snow," he observed. "I threw in that hint
about marrying just to see wha