aturally somewhat
shy, and further handicapped by an unusually tall lean frame which he
handled awkwardly. If you had a good look at his eyes you forgot his
shyness, his leanness, his awkwardness, his height. They were the
keynote of his gentle, studious, kindly, humorous nature. But Chicago,
Illinois, is too busy looking to see anything. Eyes are something you
see with, not into.

Two of the boys at Nagel's had an engagement for the evening with two
girls who were friends. On the afternoon of that day one of the boys
went home at four with a well-developed case of grippe. The other
approached Raymond with his plea.

"Say, Atwater, help me out, will you? I can't reach my girl because
she's downtown somewheres for the afternoon with Cora. That's her girl
friend. And me and Harvey was to meet 'em for dinner, see? And a show.
I'm in a hole. Help me out, will you? Go along and fuss Cora. She's a
nice girl. Pretty, too, Cora is. Will you, Ray? Huh?"

Ray went. By nine-thirty that evening he had told Cora about the
Invention. And Cora had turned sidewise in her seat next to him at the
theatre and had looked up at him adoringly, awe-struck. "Why, how
perfectly _wonderful_! I don't see how you think of such things."

"Oh, that's nothing. I got a lot of ideas. Things I'm going to work out.
Say, I won't always be plugging down at Nagel's, believe me. I got a
lot of ideas."

"Really! Why, you're an inventor, aren't you! Like Edison and those. My,
it must be wonderful to think of things out of your head. Things that
nobody's ever thought of before."

Ray glowed. He felt comfortable, and soothed, and relaxed and
stimulated. And too large for his clothes. "Oh, I don't know. I just
think of things. That's all there is to it. That's nothing."

"Oh, isn't it! No, I guess not. I've never been out with a real inventor
before ... I bet you think I'm a silly little thing."

He protested, stoutly. "I should say not." A thought struck him. "Do you
do anything? Work downtown somewheres, or anything?"

She shook her head. Her lips pouted. Her eyebrows made pained twin
crescents. "No. I don't do anything. I was afraid you'd ask that." She
looked down at her hands--her white, soft hands with little dimples at
the finger-bases. "I'm just a home girl. That's all. A home girl. Now
you _will_ think I'm a silly stupid thing." She flashed a glance at him,
liquid-eyed, appealing.

He was surprised (she wasn't) to find his hand closed tight a