t what he makes? You can judge yourself how
he spends that."

"But Fred told me he had made a lot lately and I know he expects to make
ten times that in something--" she stopped hastily at a look in Bojo's
face. "Why, what's wrong?"

"Miss Varney--you haven't put anything into it, have you?

"Yes, I have," she said after a moment's hesitation. "Why, he told me
you yourself told him he couldn't lose. You don't mean to say there's
any--any danger?"

"I'm sorry. He shouldn't have told you! There's always a risk. I'm sorry
he let you do that."

"Oh, I oughtn't to have let it out," she said contritely. "Promise not
to tell him. I didn't mean to! Besides--it's not much really."

Bojo shook his head.

"Mr. Crocker-- Tom," she said, laying her hand on his arm, "don't turn
him against me. I'm being square with you. I do care for Fred. I don't
care if he hasn't a cent in the world; really I'm not that sort,
honest."

"And your mother?"

She was silent, and he seized the advantage.

"Why get into something that'll only hurt you both? Suppose things turn
out all right. He'll spend every cent he'll make in a few months. Now
listen, Louise. You're not made for life in a flat; neither is he. It
would be a miserable disaster. I'm sorry," he said, seeing her eyes
fill. "But what I say is true. You've got a career, a brilliant career
with money and fame ahead; don't spoil your chances and don't spoil
his."

"What do you mean?" she said, flaring up. "Then there is some one else!
I knew it! That's where he's going this afternoon!"

"There is no one else," he said, lying outrageously. "I've warned you.
I've told you the real situation. That's all."

"Let's go back," she said abruptly, and she went in silence as far as
the house, where she turned on him. "I don't believe what you've told
me. I know he is not poor or a beggar as you say. Would he be going
around with the crowd he does? No!" With an upspurt of rage of which he
had not believed her capable, she added: "Now I warn you. What we do is
our affair. Don't butt in or there'll be trouble!"

On the return, doubtless for several reasons, she elected to send her
mother in front, and to keep Bojo company on the back seat, where as
though regretting her one revealing flash of temper, she sought to be as
gracious and entertaining as possible. Despite a last whispered appeal
accompanied by a soft pressure of the arm and a troubled glance of the
eyes, no sooner had they depo