uctions for Mr. Carmody to call him up at the first possible
moment.

Thereafter Charlie frequented the gymnasiums and made industrious
inquiry, but it was many a day before he again saw his idol. Bill
Carmody was missing from his accustomed haunts, and none could tell
whither he had gone.

Those were days fraught with anxiety for the boy. Ethel, to whom he was
devoted, went about the house listless and preoccupied, in spite of her
efforts to appear cheerful. When he attempted to reason with her she
burst into tears and forbade him to mention Bill Carmody's name in her
hearing as long as he lived. Whereupon the youngster retired
disconsolately to his room to think things over.

"Love's a bum thing," he told himself. "If they do get married they die
or get a divorce or something; and if they don't--well, Bill has
prob'ly committed suicide and Eth is moping around, and most likely now
she'll marry that dang St. Ledger." He made a wry face as he thought of
St. Ledger.

"Runty little mollycoddle! Couldn't lick a chicken--him and his
monocle. And that day the wind took his hat and rolled it through the
mud, and he said: 'Oh, pshaw!' instead of damn it! Oh--_slush!_ And I
promised mother I'd take care of Eth."

He burrowed his face deep into the pillow, as, in spite of himself,
tears came to his eyes.

CHAPTER IV

LOVE OR HATE

Thus a week passed, in the course of which the heart of the girl was
torn by conflicting emotions. Love clashed with hate and self-pity with
self-reproach. Was it true--what he had said? Had she administered the
final kick to a man who was down--who, loving her--and deep down in her
heart she knew that he did love her--had come to her in the extremity
of his need for a word of encouragement?

Now that he was gone she realized how much he had meant to her. How, in
spite of his reckless disregard of life's serious side, she loved him.
Try as she would she could not forget the look of deep hurt that dulled
his eyes at her words.

Had she not been justified? Had he not needed just that to bring him to
a realization of his responsibilities? Had she not, at the sacrifice of
her own love, spurred and strengthened his purpose to make good? Or,
had she, by raising a barrier between them, removed his one incentive
to great effort?

Over and over the girl pondered these things. One moment her heart
cried out for his return, and the next she reiterated her undying hate
for the man in whose