me,
and I--I liked her. And we were almost the same age. So----" He
could go no further. With a gesture of agonized appeal, he sank to his
knees. "Oh, Alan, forgive me!" he sobbed. "Forgive----"

There could be no doubt of his meaning--of the character of his
confession. Farvel bent over him, seizing an arm. "Get on your feet!"
he shouted. "Get up! Get up, I tell you! I'm going to knock you
down!"

"Oh, help! Help!" wept Mrs. Milo, appealing to Balcome, who came
forward promptly.

"Farvel!" he admonished. He got between the two men.

Clare was dragging at Farvel. "Blame me!" she cried. "I was older!
Blame me!"

Farvel pushed her aside. "Don't try to shield him!" he answered.
"He's a dog! A dog!"

A loud voice sounded from the hall. It was Tottie, storming
virtuously. "I won't have it!" she cried. "This is my house, and I
won't have it!"

Another voice pleaded with her--"Now wait! Please!"

"I'm goin' in there," asserted the landlady. She came pounding against
the hall door, opened it, and entered, her bobbed hair lifting and
falling with the rush of her coming. "Say! What do you call this,
anyhow?" she demanded, shaking off the hand with which Sue was
attempting to restrain her.

"Keep out of here," ordered Balcome, advancing upon her boldly.

She met him without flinching. "I won't have no knock-down and
drag-out in my house!" she declared. "This is a respectable----"

"Oh, I'm used to tantrums," he retorted. And without more ado, he
forced Miss St. Clair backward into the hall, followed her, and shut
himself as well as her out of the room.

"I'll have you arrested for this!" she shrilled.

"Oh, shut up!"

Their voices mingled, and became less audible.

"You can't blame her," said Sue. "Really, from out there, it sounded
suspiciously like murder." She stared at her brother. He was not
kneeling now, but half-sitting, half-lying, in an awkward sprawl, at
Farvel's feet, much as if he had thrown himself down in a fit of temper.

Farvel turned to her. His face was set. His eyes were dull, as if a
glaze was spread upon them. His hands twitched. But he spoke quietly.
"Get this man out of here," he directed, "or I _shall_ kill him."

"Oh, go! Go!" pleaded Mrs. Milo.

"Go!" added Clare. She threw herself into the chair at the table, put
her arms on the cloth, and her face in her arms.

Sue ran to Wallace, took his arm and tugged at it, lifting him. He
stumbled up, s