ary kiss?"

Dorothy, with every sign of fear or detestation upon her, seemed wholly
unable to move. He put his arm roughly about her and kissed her twice.

Garrison, watching with feelings ill suppressed, beheld her shrink from
the contact. She appeared to push her cousin off with small effort to
disguise her loathing, and fled to Garrison as if certain of protection.

"What are you scared of?" said young Robinson, moving forward to catch
her again, and laughing in an irritating way. "You used not to----"

Garrison blocked him promptly, subconsciously wondering where he had
heard that laugh before.

"Perhaps that day has passed," he said quietly.

The visitor, still with his hat on, looked Garrison over with anger.

"Jealousy already, hey?" he said. "If you think I'll give up my rights
as a cousin you're off, understand?"

Garrison stifled an impulse to slap the fellow's face.

"What are your rights as a cousin, if I may ask?" he said.

"Wait and see," replied Robinson. "Dot was mighty fond of me
once--hey, Dot?"

Garrison felt certain of his ground in suppressing the fellow.

"Whatever the situation may have been in the past," he said, "it is
very much altered at present."

"Is that so?" demanded Theodore. "Perhaps you'll find the game isn't
quite finished yet."

Dorothy, still white and overwrought, attempted to mediate between the
two.

"I can't let you men start off like this," she said. "I--I'm fond of
you both. I wish you would try to be friendly."

"I'm willing," said her cousin, with a sudden change of front that in
no wise deceived Garrison, and he held forth his hand. "Will you
shake?"

That Dorothy wished him to greet the fellow civilly, and not incur his
ill-feeling. Garrison was sure. He took the proffered hand, as cold
as a fish, and dropped it again immediately.

Theodore laughed, and stepped gracefully away, his long coat swinging
outward with his motion. Garrison caught a gleam of red, where the
coat was parted at the bottom--and he knew where he had heard that
laugh before. The man before him was no other than the one he had seen
next door, dressed in red fleshings as Satan.

It was not to be understood in a moment, and Theodore's parents had
returned once more to the door. Indeed, the old man had beheld the
momentary hand-clasp of the men, and he was nettled.

"Theodore!" he cried; "you're not making friends with a man who's
sneaked off and married Dorothy, I hop