g for admittance outside.

The attendants appointed at these doors seemed powerless to keep order,
and Larry had planted himself before one and was trying to pacify the
hungry crowd, and promote harmony. For the shoving, pushing and swearing
were not all good-natured, though largely so.

"Hold on there!" he called to a bull-headed Pole, who had just thrust
aside a little girl so roughly she cried out with pain, "Hold on!
There's enough to eat, and time enough to eat it in, but nobody gets
inside here unless he brings his manners with him. This isn't pay-day,
nor the menagerie, nor a bread riot; it's just a party of ladies and
gentlemen, and we've all got to brace up and remember it. Ladies first,
now, and stand aside there to let these folks out, or there can't
anybody get in. No hurry! No hurry! the cooks will keep the coffee hot,
and the sandwiches haven't even begun to give out. Hello, Joyce! Do you
want to come now?"

"No, no, we'll wait," nodding gaily. "Let these others in who have
waited longer."

The Pole turned to look at her, while he stood stolidly in the path, as
close to the door as he could crowd, and his expression startled her.
The gaunt eyes gleamed like those of a wolf, and over the high bones
above the sunken cheeks the skin glistened, as if so tightly stretched
as to be in danger of bursting. She felt that the man had been in
desperate straits, and while recoiling before the evil sullenness of his
look, she felt a deep pity for the pain in it. She turned to Murfree.
"Who is that?" she had it on her tongue's end to ask, but the look in
his face drove the query out of her mind. With hands clenched at his
side, eyes staring through his glasses, and lips curled fiercely back
from his set teeth, yellowed horribly with tobacco, the man was also
gazing at the Pole, too intent to remember her presence.

CHAPTER XIII.

SOME ENCOUNTERS.

Joyce watched him a moment, fascinated. Presently he drew a long breath,
and the tense features relaxed. He seemed gathering himself, together,
and after a short interval of silence, during which she pretended to be
absorbed in the crowd which was streaming through the door, he said in a
low, husky voice:

"Say 'm, if you don't mind, and seeing's your ma is right here"--he
referred to Madame Bonnivel who was slowly approaching on Mr. Dalton's
arm--"I guess I'd better git out o' this crowd and go home, I ain't
feeling very well and--good-night!"

He slipped