y shot on up again.

"How far do you go?" she asked.

"To the eighth."

"Well, stop here!" They were still alone, moving on above the sixth
floor. "Stop here, Tom, between these floors, please, please!"

Her voice was full of emotion and he turned his wheel and stopped at her
bidding. He had seen her when she entered and his surprise was not great
like hers. That she was a beautiful young woman, taking her place in the
white world, was what he had expected. He felt pride in her pretty dress
and graceful carriage; but he recognized her aloofness, her position
with the dominant race. Now, however, as she grasped his arm and greeted
him with the old, bright, comradely look, for a moment he felt himself
her boy again.

"Why aren't you at school?" she demanded.

He was recalled to his position by repeated clicks of his indicator.
"You know, Sister," the name slipped out unawares, "I can't explain a
thing like that between two floo's with the bells ringing for me above
and below."

"Then come and explain it to me to-night. You must, Tom. I'll do
something desperate if you don't come."

Her face was aglow with excitement, her eyes shone and she gripped her
silk-gloved hands together.

Doubtful whether he should obey her, he still could not resist her
pleading. "All right, I'll come," he promised and sprang the car upward.

They had another moment alone when she slipped her address in his hand
and described rapidly the way to reach her home. "Now I know you never
broke your word," she whispered as she stepped back in the basement
again.

Fearing that the slight delay she had caused in the running time of the
elevator might arouse some criticism, she summoned all her courage, drew
herself up with a more impressive air than she had ever yet assumed, and
addressed the starter.

"I was glad to recognize that elevator boy of yours," she said with
condescension, "he comes from my home town."

"Yes, Madam," the man answered.

"He is thoroughly trustworthy," she went on, "I know, for he has worked
in my family."

"I thought he was a good boy," the man said, bowing to her, "but we are
always grateful for further references."

Hertha nodded and made her way out.

It was not until she was almost at her doorstep that she remembered that
she had failed to buy the top.

"I'm glad I didn't tell Bob I was getting it for him," she thought
remorsefully, "but how should I remember it when I met Tom-of-the-Woods
himself!"