ck."

"Every cent!" Adams vociferated. "Every last penny! I can raise it--I
GOT to raise it! I'm going to put a loan on my factory to-morrow. Oh,
I'll get it for him, you tell him! Every last penny!"

"Well, ole feller, you just try and get quieted down some now." Charley
held out his hand in parting. "You and your wife just quiet down some.
You AIN'T the healthiest man in the world, you know, and you already
been under quite some strain before this happened. You want to take
care of yourself for the sake of your wife and that sweet little girl
upstairs, you know. Now, good-night," he finished, stepping out upon the
veranda. "You send for me if there's anything I can do."

"Do?" Adams echoed. "There ain't anything ANYBODY can do!" And then, as
his old friend went down the path to the sidewalk, he called after him,
"You tell him I'll pay him every last cent! Every last, dang, dirty
PENNY!"

He slammed the door and went rapidly up the stairs, talking loudly to
himself. "Every dang, last, dirty penny! Thinks EVERYBODY in this family
wants to steal from him, does he? Thinks we're ALL yellow, does he?
I'll show him!" And he came into his own room vociferating, "Every last,
dang, dirty penny!"

Mrs. Adams had collapsed, and Alice had put her upon his bed, where she
lay tossing convulsively and sobbing, "Oh, POOR Walter!" over and
over, but after a time she varied the sorry tune. "Oh, poor Alice!" she
moaned, clinging to her daughter's hand. "Oh, poor, POOR Alice to have
THIS come on the night of your dinner--just when everything seemed to be
going so well--at last--oh, poor, poor, POOR----"

"Hush!" Alice said, sharply. "Don't say 'poor Alice!' I'm all right."

"You MUST be!" her mother cried, clutching her. "You've just GOT to be!
ONE of us has got to be all right--surely God wouldn't mind just ONE of
us being all right--that wouldn't hurt Him----"

"Hush, hush, mother! Hush!"

But Mrs. Adams only clutched her the more tightly. "He seemed SUCH a
nice young man, dearie! He may not see this in the paper--Mr. Lohr said
it was just a little bit of an item--he MAY not see it, dearie----"

Then her anguish went back to Walter again; and to his needs as a
fugitive--she had meant to repair his underwear, but had postponed doing
so, and her neglect now appeared to be a detail as lamentable as the
calamity itself. She could neither be stilled upon it, nor herself
exhaust its urgings to self-reproach, though she finally took