door.

"From a devoted admirer?" inquired Blake, as she passed him.

Don saw the color spring to Miss Winthrop's cheeks, but she hurried on
without a word in reply. He understood now what it was she did not
like about Blake. Don was not at all of an aggressive nature, but at
that moment he could have struck the man with the greatest
satisfaction. It seemed the only adequate way of expressing himself.
Blake was still smiling.

"Sort of caught her with the goods that time, eh?" observed Blake.

"I don't get you," answered Don.

"Candy by messenger? Well, I've been looking for it. And when those
haughty ones do fall, believe me, they fall hard."

"Maybe," answered Don. "But I'll bet you five dollars to a quarter
you're wrong about her."

Blake's eyes narrowed a trifle.

"I'll take you," he answered. "What's your proof?"

"I sent her that stuff myself."

"You? Holy smoke, that's going some!"

"I sent her that to pay for some typewriting she did for me and
because I knew she wouldn't take any money."

"I lose. Come out and have a drink?"

"Thanks," answered Don. "I'm on my way uptown. Give that quarter to
Eddie."

CHAPTER IX

IT WILL NEVER DO

If Miss Winthrop ever had more than a nodding acquaintance with Mr.
Pendleton, she gave no indication of that fact when she came in the
next morning. With a face as blank as a house closed for the season,
she clicked away at her typewriter until noon, and then hurried out to
lunch as if that were a purely business transaction also. Don followed
a little sooner than usual. The little restaurant was not at all
crowded to-day, but she was not there. He waited ten minutes, and as
he waited the conviction grew that she did not intend to come.

Don went out and began an investigation. He visited five similar
places in the course of the next fifteen minutes, and in the last one
he found her. She was seated in a far corner, and she was huddled up
as if trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. As he
strode to her side with uplifted hat, she shrank away like a hunted
thing finding itself trapped.

"What did you run away for?" he demanded.

"What did you hunt me up for?" she replied.

"Because I wanted to see you."

"And I came here because I did _not_ want to see you."

"Now, look here--" he began.

"So I should think you'd go along and leave me alone," she interrupted.

"If I did that, then I'd never know what the trouble is all about," he
e