t heart of hearts she had cherished the fond belief
that one day their orbs would meet and their souls would rush together
in such a head-on collision as is sometimes referred to as love at
first sight. But in Miss Featherington's hero worship gloom had no
part. Her ideals never ceased to smile, whether they slew or caressed,
and perpetually they carried themselves with a jaunty swing or a
dashing stride.

The fact that there had been storm mutterings within the awful cave of
Old Grim Barnes had never before had a depressing effect upon her
hero. He had always sallied forth with airy tread, humming a tune or
laughing with his eyes. What could have happened at this fateful
meeting? Perhaps he had been disinherited. Rapture of raptures, he had
confessed his love for some howling beauty of humble station, had been
cut off with the inevitable shilling and was now going forth to earn
his bread.

Marietta Featherington's heart came up and throbbed in her throat as
Whitney Barnes suddenly wheeled and confronted her. Leaning back upon
his cane, he looked at her--very, very solemnly.

"Miss Featherington," he pronounced slowly, "I wish to ask you a
question. May I?"

Marietta was sure that her puffs were on fire, so fierce was the heat
that blazed under her fair skin. She concentrated all her mental
forces in an effort to summon an elegant reply. But all she could get
out was a stifled:

"Sure thing."

"Thank you, Miss Featherington," said the young man. "My question is
this: Do you believe in soul mates? That is, do you, judging from what
you have observed and any experience you may have had, believe that
true love is controlled by the hand of Fate or that you yourself can
take hold and guide your own footsteps in affairs of the heart?"

Teddie O'Toole had crammed "Deep Blood Gulch" into his hip pocket and
was grinning from ear to ear.

Miss Featherington was positive that her puffs were all ablaze. She
could almost smell them burning. She looked down and she looked up and
she drew a long, desperate sigh.

"I believe in Fate!" she said with emotion that would have done honor
to Sarah Bernhardt.

"Thank you, Miss Featherington," said Whitney Barnes, with profound
respect, then turned on his heel and went out into the corridor of the
great office building.

Unconsciously he had dealt a ruthless blow and there is not a
scintilla of doubt but that he was responsible for the box on the ears
that made Teddie O'Toole's