g--tact and magnetism; and again, Pert was too young and
inexperienced to let worldly advantages weigh with her.

At all events, they sat there together, blissful in their new-found
happiness, talking the love all lovers talk, and heedless of the
speeding hours.

As Checkers rather coyly put it, "There was n't very much room in the
room." The fire had died almost to ashes, and for the hundredth time
he had said, "I must go," when suddenly he was jerked from his seat by
a rough hand which had laid hold of his collar.

With a violent effort he broke away, and, turning about, faced Mr.
Barlow.

"So!" snorted the old man, angrily, "so this is what ye 're doin', is
it, settin' here philanderin'? I reckoned somethin' was goin' on. You
go to yer room, girl; come, git along. And you, my young jack-snipe,
mosey off afore I wear ye out with a switch."

Checkers' surprise had been so complete that for a moment he could not
collect himself. Then such was his sense of anger at the indignity
that had been put upon him that only Pert's hand upon his arm
restrained him from making a fight of it. As it was, the two men stood
with an armchair between them, grimly glaring at each other.

"Father," cried Pert, peeping timidly from behind Checkers, "Mr.
Campbell and I are engaged to be married."

"To be what?" howled the old man, dancing with rage.

"To be married," said Checkers. "Now, listen to me, and don't you get
so gay with yourself. I love your daughter; she loves me; we are going
to be married, and that's the end of it."

Checkers stepped back. It was well that he did, for the old man
suddenly reached for him, "and if he 'd have got me," said Checkers,
afterwards, relating the incident to me, "he would n't have done a
thing to me. We made a few laps around the room," he continued, "with
the chairs and table in the middle. The old man ran a bang-up second,
but he was 'carrying weight for age,' and I fouled him in the stretch,
by pulling a rocker in the way, that he stumbled over; then, I opened
the door, kissed Pert good by, grabbed my hat, and did the slide for
the road. The old joker tried to 'sic' the dogs on me, but they knew
me so well they would n't 'sic.'"

It had long been a pet scheme of Mr. Barlow's to marry Pert to Arthur
Kendall. In fact, he considered the matter settled, and had often
congratulated himself upon his prospects of securing a wealthy
son-in-law. The presumption, therefore, of this "