lost in a bubbling flow of strange,
moist, lisping articulations that left the general meaning obscure.

She answered all his questions eagerly, fully, and he acknowledged:

"She knows what she's sayin', all right, but I'm as rattled as a
tenderfoot."

Nevertheless he derived a preposterous delight from this experience,
until he realized that they were wandering aimlessly. Then thoughts of a
possible encounter with a distracted parent filled him with such dismay
that he appealed to the first woman he met.

"Lady! If you know where this baby lives--"

"Certainly I know."

"Then take her home. Her mother'll think I'm a kidnapper." Daniels
perspired at the thought.

The woman laughingly accepted the responsibility of a full explanation,
but as she lifted the child it turned up its face to Daniels, quite as a
matter of course. The rosebud lips awaited him, yet he did not
understand. He inquired, blankly:

"_Now_ what does she want?"

"A kiss. Don't you, dearie?"

"God'lmighty!" breathed the man. Then he lowered his bearded face.

He was trembling when the strangers had gone; he felt those moist baby
lips against his and the sensation almost overcame him. He didn't like
the woman's appearance, but she seemed tender-hearted and--there was no
better way of insuring the safety of his little charge than to give her
over.

But that kiss! It remained upon his lips more fragrant, more holy than
anything he had ever conceived. It left him conscious of his own
uncleanliness and shortcomings.

Still in a daze, he looked down at his index finger, which remained
rigid; it was blue with the cold, but he felt nothing except the clasp
of a tiny woolen mitt.

"_Well!_" he exploded. "I--don't _seem_ to be dreaming. She liked
me--she must of--or she wouldn't of kissed me. She sure did, and I--God!
I'd trade Discovery for another one."

He felt no further interest in Arcadia; he thought only of the child and
the amazing adventure that had come to him; he could think of nothing
else during the afternoon. More than once he touched his lips timidly
with his tongue and bared his hand to stare at his big finger.

When he had dined that evening he began a leisurely round of the saloons
and gambling-halls, pausing in each to invite every one to drink, as
befitted a man of wealth. He played, more or less, without knowing
whether he won or lost, for his thoughts were directed in other and
stranger channels.

The Elite was the mo