gh breeding and reckless _diablerie_ in
his handsome face.

In the antagonistic moment in which they eyed each other, Dr. Harpe
endeavored to recall the something or somebody which his appearance
suggested. She groped for it in the dim gallery of youthful memories.
What was it? It flashed upon her with the suddenness of a forgotten
word. She remembered it plainly now--that treasured, highly colored
lithograph of a brigand holding up a coach in a mountain pass! There was
in this face the same mocking deviltry; his figure had the same lithe
grace; he needed only the big hoop earrings to complete the resemblance.

He removed his hat with a long, sweeping gesture and bowed in
exaggerated deference.

"At your service," he murmured.

"There was no need----" she began in a kind of apology.

"Fifty dollars is little enough to pay for the privilege of your skill,
madam. Shall it be in advance? Of course; in advance."

She threw out her hand in a gesture of protest, which he ignored.

"Permit me at least to show you that we have it here. I feel sure that
you can work with a freer mind if I count it out and lay it where you
can see it." He took an odd, foreign purse from the belt of his "chaps"
and she noted that it sagged with the weight of its contents.

"Gold," he explained; "nearly new from the Mint. You can have it tested
at the bank before you begin--acids or something of the sort, I
believe."

She crimsoned with anger, but he went on--

"Fifty dollars! What a very little sum to start the milk of human
kindness flowing!"

"I told him he needn't mind--there was no rush--just when it was
convenient. He misunderstood me." She found her tongue at last and lied
glibly.

The child's foster-father stared at her as though he doubted his own
ears. Her very audacity left him speechless.

"There you are, $50 in gold!" He flung the money into her lap. "Old
hoss," he laid his hand upon the man's shoulder while his mocking laugh
again made her cheeks tingle, "you oughtn't to lie to me like that."

When he had sauntered across the street with his careless, easy stride
and disappeared inside the swinging doors of the bar-room of the
Terriberry House, Dr. Harpe said brusquely:

"Here, you gotta help me yank this leg straight but, first, I want you
to go over to the store and bust up a thin box--something for
splints--strips off a fruit case would be best if you can get 'em."

"Haven't you splints?" the man asked in surpri