him, but
Conniston had no eye for such trifles. Jocelyn nodded a bit stiffly to
Argyl, and, smiling at Conniston, cried gaily, "You won't forget, Mr.
Conniston!"

But he had already forgotten. He had not hoped to see Argyl for many
days yet, perhaps many weeks, and the unexpected sight of her thrilled
through him, driving all thoughts of Jocelyn out of his mind. And when
in a few minutes he was forced to remember that he had business with
Garton he left reluctantly and with a promise to have dinner at six
o'clock with her and her father.

Tommy Garton he found as cheerful as a cricket and heartily glad to
see him. Billy Jordan had looked out as Jocelyn and her two escorts
came by, and now was back at his typewriter, pounding the keys for
dear life, the ticking and clicking of his machine keeping time to
"Yankee Doodle," which he was whistling softly. He, too, shook hands,
but his cheerfulness was of a grade noticeably inferior to Garton's.
And immediately he went back to his machine and his rhythmical
pounding.

Conniston was of a mind to get the business of the day done with
before six. The first part of his errand took up the greater part of
an hour. Then Garton reported upon the other matter which Truxton had
wanted ascertained. There was water enough to last four days.
Provisions were holding out well, but soon there would be a need for
fresh supplies of sugar, flour, and jerked beef. There was enough of
canned goods at the general store to last for a month, a fresh
shipment having been recently received--two big wagon-loads from
Crawfordsville.

"I expect Mr. Crawford to drop in on us some time before dark," Garton
said, as he put away carefully into a drawer the papers he had taken
from it during the consultation. "Miss Argyl is already here. Stopped
in a minute to let us know that the Old Man is coming."

"Yes, I know. I saw her a minute just before I came in."

They chatted for a while longer, until Conniston saw by his watch that
it was six o'clock. Then he got up and reached for his hat.

"You'll spend the night with me, Conniston," Tommy Garton offered.
"I've got plenty of bedding; a man doesn't suffer for covers these
nights. Drop in as soon as you and Billy get through supper. I think
that I can beat you a game of crib."

"Much obliged, Garton. But I may not run in for an hour or so. Miss
Crawford has asked me to eat with them to-night."

"Oh." There was a great lack of expression in Garton's mo