rkened the door. "Hello, Buffo. You getting your first
lesson, too?"

The girl stiffened instantly. "I shall call him that, after all. Thank
you, Mr. Douglass, for strengthening my resolution."

"And as his godfather I, of course, must be Momus," said Ken, nothing
abashed, though his eyes glittered. And in a not unpleasant if somewhat
strident voice, he mischievously sang:

"Why gall and wormwood in a throat
Designed for hydromel!
Far better be a Buffo goat
And court the booze bot-tel."

Her lips curled at what she mistook for an implied threat. With all the
hauteur she could summon to her aid, she swept him with her scorn. "Oh!
If you feel a really irresistible desire to get drunk," she said, "that
is a waste of talent far more appreciable by the critics of the Alcazar;
my brother, being unfortunately absent, will be desolated at missing
_this_ performance."

She regretted her temerity even before she had finished. His face seemed
to age as she looked. A man putting such indignity upon him, at first
view of that face, would have hastily laid his hand on his pistol-butt;
the girl placed hers tremblingly above her heart.

The man's self-restraint was wonderful. For an interminable moment which
seemed an age to the frightened women--for even old Abbie was blanched
with comprehension and stood with clasped hands and white lips--he was
silent. Then in a voice whose calmness made the girl shiver with an
undefinable fear, he said:

"That is twice to-day, Miss Carter, that you have been pleased to insult
me. I am most unfortunate in having incurred your disfavor. My intrusion
here was to acquaint you with the news that your brother, accompanied by
your mother, will be here to-morrow night, a rider having just brought a
telegram to that effect. It will take me but a few minutes to gather my
effects. I will submit a full account of my stewardship to Mr. Carter
to-morrow--from Tin Cup. It will be sufficiently full and comprehensive
enough to obviate the necessity of any explanations on your part. Have
I your permission to retire?"

Unable to think coherently she mutely nodded assent. Hat in hand, he
turned on the threshold. "The performance will begin at ten, to-morrow
night," he said. "Abbie, don't put any wormwood in Buffo's milk. It'll
make him uppish."

But the gods who dispose of man's proposals ordained that Douglass was
not to leave the C Bar that night. As he swung out into the moonlight
his n