me, Bobby, I'd like a word with you."

"No preaching," Bobby bargained. "It isn't Sunday."

Graham laughed pleasantly.

"It's about money. That talks any day."

Bobby edged a way out and followed Graham to an unoccupied room. There
the big man turned on him.

"See here, Bobby! When are you going out to the Cedars?"

Bobby flushed.

"You're a dear friend, Hartley, and I've always loved you, but I'm in no
mood for preaching tonight. Besides, I've got my own life to lead"--he
glanced away--"my own reasons for leading it."

"I'm not going to preach," Graham answered seriously, "although it's
obvious you're raising the devil with your life. I wanted to tell you
that I've had a note from Katherine to-day. She says your grandfather's
threats are taking too much form; that the new will's bound to come
unless you do something. She cares too much for you, Bobby, to see you
throw everything away. She's asked me to persuade you to go out."

"Why didn't she write to me?"

"Have you been very friendly with Katherine lately? And that's not
fair. You're both without parents. You owe Katherine something on
that account."

Bobby didn't answer, because it was clear that while Katherine's
affection for him had weakened, her friendship for Graham had grown too
fast. Looking at the other he didn't wonder.

"There's another thing," Graham was saying. "The gloomy old Cedars has
got on Katherine's nerves, and she says there's been a change in the old
man the last few days--wanders around as if he were afraid of something."

Bobby laughed outright.

"Him afraid of something! It's always been his system to make everybody
and everything afraid of him. But you're right about Katherine. We have
always depended on each other. I think I'll go out after dinner."

"Then come have a bite with me," Graham urged. "I'll see you off
afterward. If you catch the eight-thirty you ought to be out there before
half-past ten."

Bobby shook his head.

"An engagement for dinner, Hartley. I'm expecting Carlos Paredes to pick
me up here any minute."

Graham's disapproval was belligerent.

"Why, in the name of heaven, Bobby, do you run around with that damned
Panamanian? Steer him off to-night. I've argued with you before. It's
unpleasant, I know, but the man carries every mark of crookedness."

"Easy with my friends, Hartley! You don't understand Carlos. He's good
fun when you know him--awfully good fun."

"So," Graham said, "is this sort of