nt with me coming back,
and you can ride with Marie. He won't say a word, will you, Angelo?"

Mr. Hiltze seemed not altogether satisfied, but Angelo was already
half-way down the rustic stairs and headed for the garage, so he
contented himself with one final word of warning.

"Just keep quiet," he said to Angelo. "Do not even look at her. There
must be no fuss or confusion, or she will be afraid to come."

There was a heavy fog rolling up through the canyons, and Eveley, in her
state of excitement, found the car prone to leap wildly through the misty
white darkness. There was a great ringing in her ears, and her pulses
were pounding. Hiltze at her side was silent and preoccupied, and Angelo
in the rear sat huddled in a corner, in the rug which Eveley had tucked
about him.

"We do not want any frozen passengers to bring home," she had said, with
a smile.

They spun swiftly along University, slowing for East San Diego where
there were officers with bad reputations among speeders, through La Mesa,
the cross on Mt. Helix showing faintly in the pale moonlight, through El
Capon, out beyond Flynn Springs where the pavement left off.

"Are you tired?" asked the man, stirring closer to Eveley's side.

"No," she said, with a laugh that was really a sob. "But I am so out of
breath, and thrilled, and--all stirred up, like a silly little
schoolgirl. I believe I am frightened."

"Do not be frightened, Miss Eveley," said Angelo suddenly, reassuringly.
"I'll look after you. If we do not like the little Greaser, we'll just
ditch her."

"You must not be afraid," said Hiltze, pressing his arm companionably
against her elbow. "You know I will take care of you. And you will like
the girl. She is just a timid, nerve-racked child. You will love her in
time. But this is not a question of love, only of service,--one phase of
the scheme of Americanization that is sweeping the country. It has to
come through the women, Eveley, you know that. It has to be born into the
babies of the next generation."

An audible sniff came from the back seat, but Angelo was lustily clearing
his throat.

"You sound like a stump speaker," he said critically. "Did you get that
way selling autos, or did you used to be an agitator or something?"

Mr. Hiltze made no reply. He was leaning forward now, anxiously scanning
the road. "We turn soon. Drive slowly, please. I do not know the road
very well. Oh,--there it is,--I see it now. Just beyond the little cl