I am glad to have been of service," Conniston replied, as the two
men gripped hands. "And I appreciate your confidence. Besides," with a
quick, half-serious smile, "I think that I have profited as greatly as
any one else could possibly do."

"I know what you mean. And I agree with you. Now, you said that there
was another matter--"

"Yes. I have had a cable from my father in Paris. Because I could not
agree to do a certain thing which he requested he has seen fit to
disinherit me."

"I know. Tommy Garton told me about it. And I know what the thing was
which he required of you. I did not thank you for your answer to him,
Conniston, for we both know that you did only your duty. But I know
what it meant, I know what your stand cost you, and I am prouder to
have known you, to feel that outside of our business relations I can
say that William Conniston, Junior, is my friend, than I have ever
been in my life to have known any other man!"

His voice was deep with sincerity, alive with an intensity of feeling
which drove a warm flush into Conniston's tanned face.

"As you say, I did only what a man must do were he not a scoundrel.
But, too, as you say, it means a great deal. It means that when you
will have paid me my wages I shall have not another cent in the world.
And being virtually penniless, still my chief purpose in coming to you
this evening has been to tell you that I love Argyl, and that I want
your consent to ask her to marry me."

For a moment the older man made no reply. For a little he drew
thoughtfully at his cigar, and as in its glow his grave face was
thrown into relief Conniston saw that there was a sad droop at the
corners of the firm mouth.

"You have told Argyl?" he finally said.

"Yes. I told her that day in the desert. I had meant to wait until the
work was done, until she could have seen that I was honestly trying to
live down my utter uselessness. But--I told her then."

"And she?"

"She said that I might speak to you."

"I am selfish, Conniston--selfish. Argyl has been daughter to me and
son, and the best friend I have ever had. I shall miss her. But if she
loves you--Well," with a gentle smile, "she is too true a woman to
hold back from your side, no matter what I might say. And since she
must leave me some day, I am very glad that you came into her life. I
congratulate you, my boy."

While the two men were talking and waiting for Argyl to come in, Tommy
Garton, his new legs discarded