ng collar of her restaurant rival.

She gave her companion a mirthful nudge.

"He's right on my trail, you see," she whispered. "Adam's apple and
all."

Geraldine glanced up and the stranger's roving gaze fell straight upon
hers. He came toward her.

"Miss Melody?" he said in a rasping voice.

She rose as if impelled by some inner spring, her light disdain
swallowed in dread.

"This is Mr. Carder, then," she returned.

"You've guessed right the very first time," responded the man with an
air of relief. "I recognize you now, but you look some different from
the only other time I ever saw you."

"This is Miss Upton, Mr. Carder, a lady who has befriended me very
kindly while I have been waiting for you."

"Yes, and who prevented me from havin' lunch with you," responded the
stranger, eying Miss Upton jocosely; but as if he could not spare time
from the near survey of Geraldine his eyes again swept over her hair and
crimsoning cheeks. "I thought I felt some strong drawin' toward that
particular table," he added. "Well, we'll make up for it in the future
you can bet. That your bag here? We'd better be runnin' along. Time,
tide, and business don't wait for any man. Good-bye, Miss Upton, I'll
forgive you for takin' my place, considerin' you've been good to this
little girl."

Miss Mehitable's face was as solemn as lies in the power of round faces
to be. At close quarters one observed a cast in Mr. Carder's right eye.
She disapproved his assured proprietary air and she disapproved him the
more that she could see repulsion in the young girl's suddenly pale
countenance. She had time for only one strong pressure of a little hand
before Geraldine was whisked away and she was left standing there
stunned by the suddenness of it all.

"I never asked where it was!" she ejaculated suddenly. "I've lost the
child!" People began to look at her and she continued mentally: "The
critter looked as if he wanted to eat her up, the poor little lamb.
Unless the mother's something different from the son she'll be driven to
desperation. No knowin' what she'll do." Miss Upton clasped her plump
hands together in great trouble of spirit. "I believe I said Keefe
more'n once. Perhaps she'll have sense enough to write to me. Why didn't
I just tell that old rawbones that her plans was changed and she was
goin' with me. Oh, I am a fool! I don't know what I'd have done with
her; but some way would have opened. Let's see. Where am I!" Miss Upton