to see the
girl's tenderest sensibilities wounded by a haughty clerk, enraged the
man who played Santa Claus. Abruptly he resumed charge of the Briskow
purchases, and it gave him a pang to note how Allegheny ran to him with
her hurt, as it were.

But matters did not progress as well as he had expected. Allie's
disappointment at the death of her dream she hid under an assumption of
indifference; she merely pawed over the pretty things shown her and
pretended to ignore the ridicule she and her mother excited. But her
face was stony, her eyes were hopeless, miserable.

For once in his life Calvin Gray was at a loss, and knowledge of that
fact caused him to chew savagely at his cigar. To his bewildered
companions he remained enthusiastic, effervescent, but behind their
backs he glowered at the well-groomed customers and cursed the
snickering models who paraded their wares. Engaged thus, he became
aware of a stranger who looked on at the pitiful little comedy without
amusement. She was a pretty thing. Gray stared at her openly and his
scowl vanished. When she moved away, he made a sudden decision, excused
himself, and followed her.

He was gratified at the manner in which she accepted his breathless
apology for speaking to her, at the poise with which she listened while
he made himself and his companions known to her and explained the
plight in which he found himself.

"You can save the reason of a distracted man and add to the happiness
of two poor, bewildered women, if you will," he concluded, earnestly.
"It isn't a funny situation; it's tragic."

"What do you wish me to do?" the girl inquired.

"It's a lot to ask, I know, but won't you help them buy the things they
need and save them from further humiliation at the hands of these
highbrow clerks and lowbrow customers? I--I want to punch somebody in
the nose."

"I was sure you did. That is what attracted my attention."

"You are a person of taste, if you will pardon a perfectly obvious
compliment from a total stranger, and they need such a woman's
guidance. But they need, even more, a little bit of feminine tact and
sympathy. Look!" He showed Gus Briskow's blank check. "The whole store
is theirs, if they wish it. Think what that ought to mean to two poor
starved creatures who have never owned enough clothing to wad a
shotgun."

"The girl is stunning. All she needs is the right sort of things--"

Impulsively Gray seized the speaker's hand. "I _knew_ it!" he cri