e had no real
care.

Her smiling eyes turned readily upon the newcomer the moment her
secret labors had been hidden from prying male eyes. And there was no
mistaking her cordiality for this cold-eyed visitor.

"Sakes alive! but you do look fierce," she cried challengingly. "You
sure must be in a bad temper."

But Sandy's expression was simply the outcome of long and difficult
consideration. As a matter of fact, in his hard way, he was feeling
very delighted. His past married experience had brought him to the
conviction that here was the only person in Suffering Creek who could
help him.

And, furthermore, he was well satisfied to think that only his
experience as a married man could have suggested to him this means of
gaining the information required by their president, and so shown him
the way to surpass his comrades in his efforts on behalf of the
Trust.

But his knowledge of womankind warned him that he must not be too
hasty. He must not show his hand until he had established himself in a
favorable position in the susceptible Birdie's heart. With this object
in view he set himself to offer his blandishments in characteristic
fashion. He did not suffer from Toby's complaint of bashfulness.
Married life had cured him of that. In consequence, his method, if
crude, was direct.

"I can't say the same of you, Birdie," he declared unsmilingly.
"You're bloomin' as--as a kebbige."

"Kebbige?" sniffed the girl.

"Kebbige, sure," nodded the man of married experience. "Guess mebbe it
ain't a bokay fer smell. But fer taste--with corned beef? Gee!"

Birdie took no umbrage.

"You got to it--after awhiles," she remarked slyly. Then she added,
with a gush, "D'you know, I'm allus most scared to death of you men.
You're that big an' strong, it makes me feel you could well-nigh eat
me."

Sandy availed himself of the invitation.

"A tasty mouthful," he declared. And without more ado he passed round
the table, caught her quickly in his arms, and, without the smallest
expression of interest, kissed her. If interest were lacking, his
movements were so swift that, had the girl the least idea of avoiding
the embrace--which she hadn't--she would have found it difficult to do
so.

"You men are ones!" she declared, with a little gasp, as his arms fell
from about her.

"How's that?"

"I never did--the cheek of some of you!"

"A feller needs cheek," replied the self-satisfied widower.
"'Specially with pretty gals around,"