e democrat in Meenneesota," he replied, "but Ay tank Ay ban
socialist now."

"Agh-r-r!" snarled Mrs. Foley. "I mean phwat religion are ye, or ain't
ye?"

Gus scratched his head again.

"Ay tank mebbe Ay ban Christian," he said doubtfully.

"Ay tank mebbe ye're a Scandahoovian haythen," Mrs. Foley mimicked.

But the entrance of Faith and Angus cut short her further theological
research. Faith explained her wants.

"It's for Blake French, Mary," she said. "He's--well, we thought he
might feel better if--"

"Is he dhrunk, bad scran till him?"

"Half," Angus nodded.

"Then, instid of feedin' him why don't ye t'run him out?"

"I'd be glad to, but--"

"No, no," Faith broke in, "he may be better--"

"A bad actor an' a raw wan is that same lad," Mrs. Foley announced with
conviction, "an' comin' around here too much. I am not yer mother, but
if I was--"

"Please, Mary!" Faith cried, her cheeks scarlet.

"Well, well," Mrs. Foley observed, "coffee an' pickles is th' best thing
f'r him, barrin' p'ison. Go yer ways, an' I'll bring ut in whin ready."

They returned to the living room and the society of Blake. He met them
with a scowl. He chose to interpret the fact that he had been left alone
in the light of an insult. He was surly, glaring at Angus. The coffee,
cold meat and pickles which presently appeared did not change his mood.
The liquor dying in him left a full-sized grouch as a legacy.

Angus ignored his attitude. Faith tried to make conversation, but it was
a failure. Time passed and it grew late. Apparently Blake was waiting
out Angus. The latter did not know what to do, but he had no intention
of leaving Blake behind him. Finally, however, he was forced to make a
move. He bade Faith good night. She turned to Blake.

"Good night, Blake."

"Oh, I'm not going yet," he announced.

"It's late, Blake, and I'm tired."

"I want to talk to you."

"Not to-night, please. Come to-morrow."

"No, I'll talk to you to-night."

"Not to-night, Blake."

"Well, you will," Blake declared with an oath. "Trying to get rid of me,
are you? And I suppose this Mackay--"

"That will do now," Angus interrupted. "Be careful what you say."

"Say!" Blake roared, his temper getting the better of his prudence,
"I'll say what I like. What business have you hanging around here? It's
time--"

"It's time you went," Angus told him, "and you're going, do you savvy?
Come along, or I'll take you."

"You--" Blake began, but got