men I like, if they get sore they just hit you somewhere on the
face and then they're through. By the way, I heard this Russell was
supposed to be your dear, old, sweet friend Mildred's steady. What you
doin' walkin' as close to him as all that?"

Mrs. Adams addressed her son in gentle reproof, "Why Walter!"

"Oh, never mind, mama," Alice said. "To the horrid all things are
horrid."

"Get out!" Walter protested, carelessly. "I heard all about this Russell
down at the shop. Young Joe Lamb's such a talker I wonder he don't ruin
his grandfather's business; he keeps all us cheap help standin' round
listening to him nine-tenths of our time. Well, Joe told me this
Russell's some kin or other to the Palmer family, and he's got some
little money of his own, and he's puttin' it into ole Palmer's trust
company and Palmer's goin' to make him a vice-president of the company.
Sort of a keep-the-money-in-the-family arrangement, Joe Lamb says."

Mrs. Adams looked thoughtful. "I don't see----" she began.

"Why, this Russell's supposed to be tied up to Mildred," her son
explained. "When ole Palmer dies this Russell will be his son-in-law,
and all he'll haf' to do'll be to barely lift his feet and step into
the ole man's shoes. It's certainly a mighty fat hand-me-out for this
Russell! You better lay off o' there, Alice. Pick somebody that's got
less to lose and you'll make better showing."

Mrs. Adams's air of thoughtfulness had not departed. "But you say this
Mr. Russell is well off on his own account, Walter."

"Oh, Joe Lamb says he's got some little of his own. Didn't know how
much."

"Well, then----"

Walter laughed his laugh. "Cut it out," he bade her. "Alice wouldn't run
in fourth place."

Alice had been looking at him in a detached way, as though estimating
the value of a specimen in a collection not her own. "Yes," she said,
indifferently. "You REALLY are vulgar, Walter."

He had finished his meal; and, rising, he came round the table to her
and patted her good-naturedly on the shoulder. "Good ole Allie!" he
said. "HONEST, you wouldn't run in fourth place. If I was you I'd never
even start in the class. That frozen-face gang will rule you off the
track soon as they see your colours."

"Walter!" his mother said again.

"Well, ain't I her brother?" he returned, seeming to be entirely serious
and direct, for the moment, at least. "_I_ like the ole girl all right.
Fact is, sometimes I'm kind of sorry for her."

"But