of life. He
seemed to fascinate Juanita, who listened intently whenever he spoke.

"What you do, senyor, when you travel so much?" inquired Teresa. "You
leave Senyora Carkaire at home?"

Carker smiled sadly.

"There is no Senyora Carker," he answered.

"Oo!" cried Teresa. "You are not marreed?"

"No," replied Greg, "I'm not married."

"That ees so singulaire!"

"Veree, veree," murmured Juanita.

"It may seem singular," admitted Carker, "but a man like me, who has
pledged his life to humanity, has little right to get married."

"I do not see why you say that," said Juanita.

"Perhaps I cannot make my reason plain to you, but there is an excellent
reason. A man who marries should have a home. And a man who has a home
should live in it. If I had such a home and was bound to it, I could not
travel and carry on my life-work. I could not drag my wife around over
the country, and it is not right for a married man to leave his wife
alone a great deal."

"Gol rap it, Greg," exclaimed Ephraim, "I don't believe that's your real
reason for not gittin' married! I'll bet some gal throwed you down!"

"Well, perhaps you're right," admitted the young socialist. "You can't
blame her if she did."

"Why not can we blame her?" questioned Juanita. "Deed she have the other
lovaire? Oh, ha! ha! Senyor Carkaire! Maybe eet ees not nice to laugh, to
joke, to speak of eet. I beg the pardon, senyor."

She had seen a shadow flit across his face and vanish.

He forced a laugh.

"If there was another man," he said, "I'm conceited enough to think I
might have captured the prize in spite of him had I been willing to
sacrifice my principles and renounce my socialistic beliefs."

"Oh, the girl she not have you because of that?" breathed Juanita. "Eet
ees veree strange."

"Not so very strange," he asserted. "We'll say that she was a lady. Now
it is a fact that nearly all ladies are extremely conventional in
everything. They have a horror for the bizarre and the unconventional.
They are shocked by the man who declines to be hampered with the fashion
in clothes and in similar things. I could not fall in love with a girl
who was not a lady."

"Begorra, you're an aristocrat at heart!" cried Mulloy. "Ye can't git
away from it, me bhoy, no mather how much ye prate about socialism and
th' brotherhood av mon."

"Still I protest you do not understand me."

"By gum!" muttered Gallup; "it don't seem to me that yeou are right
'bout the gal