t there. Rose
found herself thinking of the lights, the music, the well-dressed
crowd, and then the pictures. She loved moving-pictures, especially
those with swift horses and cowboys and a girl who could ride. All at
once a wave of the old thrilling excitement rushed over her. Almost
she regretted having sent back a refusal. But she would not go with
Swann. And it was not because she knew what kind of a young man he
was--what he wanted. Rose refused from dislike, not scruples.

Then came a Saturday night which seemed a climax of her troubles. She
was told not to come back to work until further notice, and that was
as bad as being discharged. How could she tell her stepfather? Of late
he had been hard with her. She dared not tell him. The money she
earned was little enough, but during his idleness it had served to
keep them.

Rose had scarcely gone a block when she encountered Dick Swann. He
stopped her--turned to walk with her. It was a melancholy gift of
Rose's that she could tell when men were even in the slightest under
the influence of drink. Swann was not careless now or indifferent. He
seemed excited and gay.

"Rose, you're just the girl I'm looking for," he said. "I really was
going to your home. Got that job yet?"

"No," she replied.

"I've got one for you. It's at the Telephone Exchange. They need an
operator. My dad owns the telephone company. I've got a pull. I'll get
you the place. You can learn it easy. Nice job--short hours--you sit
down all the time--good pay. What do you say, Rose?"

"I--I don't know--what to say," she faltered. "Thanks for thinking of
me."

"I've had you in mind for a month. Rose, you take this job. Take it
whether you've any use for me or not. I'm not rotten enough to put
this in your way just to make you under obligations to me."

"I'll think about it. I--I do need a place. My father's out of work.
And he's--he's not easy to get along with."

"I tell you what, Rose. You meet me to-night. We'll take a spin in my
car. It'll be fine down the river road. Then we can talk it over. Will
you?"

Rose looked at him, and thought how strange it was that she did not
like him any better, now when she ought to.

"Why have you tried to--to rush me?" she asked.

"I like you, Rose."

"But you don't want me to meet you--go with you, when I--I can't feel
as you do?"

"Sure, I want you to, Rose. Nobody ever likes me right off. Maybe you
will, after you know me. The job is yours. Don'