he week." He paused as if he meant to go on, but changed his
mind and stood up. Max, too, was waiting, as if there were more to be
said.

"You two must think we've got all day to fix things." It was Pete calling
from the other end of the room. "There ain't no loafing allowed here."

Bannon smiled, and Max turned away. But after he had got a third of the
way down the aisle, he came back.

"Say, Mr. Bannon," he said, "I want to tell you that I--Hilda, she said--
she's told me something about things--and I want to--" It had been a lame
conversation; now it broke down, and they stood through a long silence
without speaking. Finally Max pulled himself together, and said in a low,
nervous voice: "Say, it's all right. I guess you know what I'm thinking
about. And I ain't got a word to say." Then he hurried out.

When Max and Hilda came in, the restaurant man was setting up the paper
napkin tents on the raised table at the end of the hall, and Pete stood by
the door, looking upon his work with satisfaction. He did not see them
until they were fairly in the room.

"Hello," he said; "I didn't know you was coming, Miss Vogel." He swept his
arm around. "Ain't it fine? Make you hungry to look at all them plates?"

Hilda followed his gesture with a smile. Her jacket was still buttoned
tightly, and her eyes were bright and her cheeks red from the brisk outer
air. Bannon and James were coming toward them, and she greeted them with a
nod.

"There's going to be plenty of room," she said.

"That's right," Pete replied. "There won't be no elbows getting in the way
at this dinner. Come up where you can see better." He led the way to the
platform, and they all followed.

"This is the speakers' table," Pete went on, "where the boss and all will
be"--he winked toward Bannon--"and the guest of honor. You show her how we
sit, Max; you fixed that part of it."

Max walked around the table, pointing out his own, Pete's, James', and
Bannon's seats, and those of the committee. The middle seat, next to
Bannon's he passed over.

"Hold on," said Pete, "you forgot something."

Max grinned and drew back the middle chair.

"This is for the guest of honor," he said, and looked at Hilda. Pete was
looking at her, too, and James--all but Bannon.

The color, that had been leaving her face, began to come back.

"Do you mean me?" she asked.

"I guess that's pretty near," said Pete.

She shook her head. "Oh, no--thank you very much--I can't st