affairs. Believe me, the next move in this
comedy-drama is a wedding--if Donald asks her in all seriousness to
marry him--that is, if he insists on it. He may insist and then again
he may not, but if he should, I shall not attempt to stop him. He's
free, white and twenty-one; he's my boss and I hope I know my place.
Personally, I'm willing to wager considerable that he'll marry her,
but whether he does or not--I'm through."

Elizabeth McKaye sighed. "That means we must work fast, Mr. Daney.
Donald will be feeling strong: enough within two weeks to call on her;
he may even motor down to the Sawdust Pile within ten days. Mother has
already broached the subject of taking him away to southern California
or Florida for a long rest; Dad has seconded the motion with great
enthusiasm--and that stubborn Donald has told them frankly that he
isn't going away for a rest."

"Gosh!" Mr. Daney gasped. "That makes it a little binding, eh?"

She met his clear glance thoughtfully and said: "If her house should
burn down--accidentally--to-day or to-night, when she and her baby
aren't in it, she'll have to leave Port Agnew. There isn't a house in
town where she could find shelter, and you could see to it that all
the rooms in the hotel are taken."

"You forget, my dear," he replied with a small smile. "I have no
further interest in this affair and moreover, I'm not turning
firebug--not this year."

"You refuse to help us?"

"Absolutely. What is to be will be, and I, for one, have decided not
to poke my finger into the cogs of destiny."

"Well--thanks awfully for what you've already done, Mr. Daney." Again
she smiled her bright, impish smile. "Good-morning."

"Good-morning, Miss Elizabeth."

As she left the office, Mr. Daney noted her debutante slouch and
gritted his teeth. "Wonder if they'll call on Nan now, or make a
combined attack on the boy and try bluff and threats and tears," he
soliloquized.

As a matter of fact they tried the latter. The storm broke after
luncheon one day when Donald declared he felt strong enough to go down
to Port Agnew, and, in the presence of the entire family, ordered the
butler to tell his father's chauffeur to bring the closed car around
to the door. Immediately, the astute Elizabeth precipitated matters by
asking her brother sharply if his projected visit to Port Agnew
predicated also a visit to the Sawdust Pile.

"Why, yes, Elizabeth," he answered calmly.

The Laird scowled at her, but she