"Maybe you think I haven't suffered too. I've lain awake nights worrying
over this."

"Yes. For fear you might be found out."

"I intended to look out for the girl, but she disappeared without
letting me know where she was going. What could I do?" The lawyer was
studying his face very carefully in the glass. "My face is a sight. It
will be weeks before that eye is fit to be seen."

Jeff turned away and left him. He walked to his rooms and found his
uncle waiting for him. Robert Farnum had sold out his interests in
Arkansas and returned to Verden with the intention of buying a small
mill in the vicinity. Meanwhile he had the apartment next to the one
used by his nephew.

"Seen anything of James lately?" he inquired as they started down the
street to dinner.

"Yes. I saw him to-day. He's leaving town for a week or so."

"On business, I suppose. He didn't mention it when I saw him Wednesday."

"It's a matter that came up suddenly, I understand."

The father agreed proudly. There were moments when he had doubts of
James, but he always stifled them by remembering what a splendid success
he was. "Probably something nobody else could attend to but him."

"Exactly."

"It's amazing how that boy gets along. His firm has the cream of the
corporation business of Verden. I never saw anything like it."

The younger man assented, rather wearily. Somehow to-night he did not
feel like sounding the praises of James.

His uncle's kindly gaze rested on him. "Tired, boy?"

"I think I am a little. I'll be all right after we've had something to
eat."

CHAPTER 22

But when your arms are full of girl and fluff
You hide your nerve behind a yard of grin;
You'd spit into a bulldog's face, or bluff
A flock of dragons with a safety pin.
Life's a slow skate, but love's the dopey glim
That puts a brewery horse in racing trim.
--Wallace Irwin.

CANARIES SING FOR THE HERO

Part 1

James Farnum had been back in Verden twenty-four hours. A few little
scars still decorated his handsome visage, but he explained them away
with the story of a motor car accident. Just now he was walking to the
bank, and he had spoken his piece five times in a distance of three
blocks. From experience he was getting letter perfect as to the details.
Even the idiotic joke about the clutch seemed now a necessary part of
the recital.

It was just as he was crossing Powers that a motor car whirled around
the co