what the score is against
you."

"You mean it's possible to get some of your fun out of the game itself?"

"What else is there to life--if you pick the things worth fighting for?"

"Then, if you lose--"

"You've lived," concluded Noyes.

"It's men like you who ought really to win," exclaimed Monte. "I hope
you get what you went after."

"I mean to," answered Noyes, with grim determination.

They had turned and were coming back in the direction of the hotel when
Monte saw a girlish figure hurrying toward them.

"I think your sister is coming," said Monte.

"Then you can be relieved of me," answered Noyes.

"But I 've enjoyed this walk immensely. I hope we can take another.
Are you here for long?"

"Indefinitely. And you?"

"Also indefinitely."

Miss Noyes was by their side now.

"Sister--this is Mr. Covington," Peter introduced her.

Miss Noyes smiled.

"I've good news for you, Peter," she said. "I've just heard from
Marjory, and she'll see you at ten."

Monte was startled by the name, but was even more startled by the look
of joy that illuminated the features of the man by his side. For a
second it was as if his blind eyes had suddenly come to life.

Monte caught his breath.

CHAPTER XVII

JUST MONTE

Monte was at the Hotel d'Angleterre at nine. In response to his card
he received a brief note.

_Dear Monte_ [he read]: Please don't ask to see me this morning. I'm
so mixed up I'm afraid I won't be at all good company.

Yours, MARJORY.

Monte sent back this note in reply:--

_Dear Marjory_: If you're mixed up, I'm just the one you ought to see.
You've been thinking again.

MONTE.

She came into the office looking like a hunted thing; but he stepped
forward to meet her with a boyish good humor that reassured her in an
instant. The firm grip of his hand alone was enough to steady her.
Her tired eyes smiled gratitude.

"I never expected to be married and deserted--all in one week," he said
lightly. "What's the trouble?"

He felt like a comedian trying to be funny with the heart gone out of
him. But he knew she expected no less. He must remain just Monte or
he would only frighten her the more. No matter if his heart pounded
until he could not catch his breath, he must play the care-free chump
of a _compagnon de voyage_. That was all she had married--all she
wanted. She glanced at his arm in its black sling.

"Who tied that this morning?" she asked.

"The