h a perfect imitation of distaste for his subject. "Say, this
is great, out here," he murmured, tucking the robe around her with
that tender protectiveness which stops just short of being proprietary.
"Honest, Marie, do you like it?"

"Why, sure, I like it, Joe." Marie smiled at him in the star-light.
"It's great, don't you think? I don't get out very often, any more. I'm
working, you know--and evenings and Sundays baby takes up all my time."

"You working? Say, that's a darned shame! Don't Bud send you any money?"

"He left some," said Marie frankly. "But I'm keeping that for baby, when
he grows up and needs it. He don't send any."

"Well, say! As long as he's in the State, you can make him dig up. For
the kid's support, anyway. Why don't you get after him?"

Marie looked down over the golf links, as the car swung around the long
curve at the head of the slope. "I don't know where he is," she said
tonelessly. "Where did you see him, Joe?"

Joe's hesitation lasted but long enough for him to give his mustache end
a twist. Marie certainly seemed to be well "over it." There could be no
harm in telling.

"Well, when I saw him he was at Alpine; that's a little burg up in the
edge of the mountains, on the W. P. He didn't look none too prosperous,
at that. But he had money--he was playing poker and that kind of thing.
And he was drunk as a boiled owl, and getting drunker just as fast as
he knew how. Seemed to be kind of a stranger there; at least he didn't
throw in with the bunch like a native would. But that was more than a
month ago, Marie. He might not be there now. I could write up and find
out for you."

Marie settled back against the cushions as though she had already
dismissed the subject from her mind.

"Oh, don't bother about it, Joe. I don't suppose he's got any money,
anyway. Let's forget him."

"You said it, Marie. Stacked up to me like a guy that's got just enough
dough for a good big souse. He ain't hard to forget--is he, girlie?"

Marie laughed assentingly. And if she did not quite attain her old
bubbling spirits during the evening, at least she sent Joe back to San
Francisco feeling very well satisfied with himself. He must have been
satisfied with himself. He must have been satisfied with his wooing
also, because he strolled into a jewelry store the next morning and
priced several rings which he judged would be perfectly suitable for
engagement rings. He might have gone so far as to buy one, if he