knew--how
persistent he was. "I was only trying to leave for home quietly and
quickly."

His eyes were a study in silent laughter: "That's all I've ever claimed
to be doing, any time in my life."

"But I can just as well leave by the front door--which, perhaps,"
retorted Kate, "you haven't always been able to do."

"Before you go"--he was standing directly in the archway, so she had to
listen--"tell me about things at the Junction; I hear the lunch room
was closed up a while ago."

"It was. But"--Kate thought the time for explanation had come--"I was
not working at the eating-house when you came in there. I am Kate
Doubleday and I wanted to save my father that day and I'm not a bit
sorry for it."

"I suppose, then, I ought to speak out, too. I was sure you were Kate
Doubleday soon after I got into the lunch-room that day and I'm not a
bit sorry for it. And I knew pretty soon you were trying to save your
father. And I helped you."

"Oh--" Kate suppressed an incredulous exclamation.

"Believe it or not as you like, I helped you. And I'm not a bit sorry
for it. Though he is no friend of mine, you have been, from that day
on; and if you ever give me a chance I'll prove it. The worst thing
you did was to go back on your word----"

"My word was not freely given," Kate was speaking furiously.

"It shouldn't have been given at all, then. But it's all right. Will
you be friends with me?"

"No man that speaks of my father as you spoke of him a moment ago can
be my friend."

"It was Lefever spoke of your father. I couldn't shut him off. Of
course he didn't know you were here. I did know after I'd been here
awhile. I heard you whisper. That's why I asked for the ink--I had no
letters to write. There's a lot of hard feeling in this country right
now. Every man in it has his friends and enemies. You mustn't take it
seriously when you hear hard words--I don't; and I hear plenty. Hadn't
you and I better be friends to begin with, anyway?"

"No," she exclaimed angrily. "Please let me pass."

He stepped promptly aside: "I never dreamed of doing anything less."

Kate started rapidly for the front door. Whom should she run into just
as she opened it but Belle coming back from her wretched telephoning
and with a bottle of cream! Kate inwardly blamed her for all her
trouble, and she was on edge, besides: "Where you going?" demanded
Belle.

"Home," answered Kate, shortly.

"Home? You haven't had