boy's nose
twitched when she was waking him up with a buttercup blossom.

Latisan was conscious of a queer unwillingness to have her leave him. He
wondered what excuse he could offer to prolong the companionship of the
evening. He wanted to link up her affairs with his in some way, if he
could--that there might be something in common between them. To solicit
her aid--her counsel; it is the first hankering of a man in his striving
toward a woman's favor.

In this case, the drive master, desperately casting about for an excuse,
was guilty of something like an enormity in venturesomeness. His own
business was calling him to the big house on the ledges; in his new
state of softened spirit he was dreading any run-in with Echford Flagg.
Perhaps gossip had already carried to Flagg the reason why the drive
master had not hastened to report about the dynamite victory. To exhibit
the actual reason for the delay, in her own winning person, seemed a
very proper thing to do according to Latisan's clouded judgment of the
moment.

"Let me tell you!" he urged. "I've got to run up to Flagg's on business.
You'll have something to talk to him about--those friends----"

"No, no!" She hurried on toward the tavern.

He ventured to clasp her arm, detaining her. "He's a poor, sick old man.
A little talk with you will do him good."

Her memory was vivid. "But you told me in New York that he won't have a
woman near his house."

"He's different nowadays," persisted Latisan. "He's sick and it will be
a treat for him to have a girl say some kind words. I want him to meet
you----"

But she shook off his hand and resolutely kept on her way. "I must go
in. I'm tired after my long journey--and my work." There were loafers in
front of the tavern. "I'm very much obliged to you, Mr. Latisan," she
called so that all could hear, "for your kindness in showing me the way
to the falls. Good night!" She disappeared.

There was nothing for Latisan to do but to brave the old tiger of the
big house alone. Outside of his desire to keep her with him as long as
possible, he had wanted her to go along into the presence of Flagg as a
guaranty of the peace; he did not believe that Flagg would launch
invective in the hearing of the girl; furthermore, Latisan was conscious
of a proud anxiety to exhibit her.

Flagg tipped the shade of the lamp so that Latisan's face was
illuminated when the drive master was in the room.

"Shaved!" snorted the tyrant. "All du