on the supper-table. When she stacked up the entire two
dollars that she had earned by only a few miles of trotting, it looked
like the loot the mercenaries captured in that old Carthage which the
new Carthage had never heard of.

The family was aghast. It was twice as much as Ollie had earned that
day. Ollie's money "came reg'lar," of course, and would total up more in
the long run.

But for Prue to earn anything was a miracle. And in Carthage two dollars
is two dollars, at the very least.

IX

The news that Carthage had a tango-teacher created a sensation rivaling
the advent of its first street-car. It gave the place a metropolitan
flavor. If it only had a slums district, now, it would be a great and
gloriously wicked city.

Prue was fairly besieged with applicants for lessons. Those who could
dance a few steps wanted the new steps. Those who could not dance at all
wanted to climb aboard the ark.

Mrs. Hippisley's drawing-room did not long serve its purpose. On the
third day the judge stalked in. He came home with a chill. At the sight
of his wife with one knee up, trying to paw like a horse, his chill
changed to fever. His roar was heard in the kitchen. He was so used to
domineering that he was not even afraid of his wife when he was in the
first flush of rage.

Prue and Idalene and Bertha he would have sentenced to deportation if he
had had the jurisdiction. He could at least send them home. He
threatened his wife with dire punishments if she ever took another step
of the abominable dance.

Prue was afraid of the judge, but she was not afraid of her own father.
She told him that she was going to use the parlor, and he told her that
she wasn't. The next day he came home to find the class installed.

He peeked into the parlor and saw Bertha Appleby dancing with Idalene
Brearley. Prue was in the arms of old "Tawm" Kinch, the town scoundrel,
a bald and wealthy old bachelor who had lingered uncaught like a wise
old trout in a pool, though generations of girls had tried every device,
from whipping the' stream to tickling his sides. He had refused every
bait and lived more or less alone in the big old mansion he had
inherited from his skinflint mother.

At the sight of Tawm Kinch in his parlor embracing his daughter and
bungling an odious dance with her, William Pepperall saw red. He would
throw the old brute out of his house. As he made his temper ready Mrs.
Judge Hippisley hurried up the hall. She had wal