oduction very complete. You failed to
tell Mr. Daggett that this is Mr. Saxton, a friend of ours in Brooklyn.
Please, Milt, do stay and have dinner. I won't let you go on hungry. And
I want you to know Jeff--Mr. Saxton.... Jeff, Mr. Daggett is an
engineer, that is, in a way. He's going to take an engineering course in
the University of Washington. Some day I shall make you bloated copper
magnates become interested in him.... Mrs. Barmberry. Mrssssssss.
Barrrrrrrmberrrrrry! Oh. Oh, Mrs. Barmberry, won't you please warm up
that other chicken for----"

"Oh, now, that's too bad. Me and Jim have et it all up!" wept the
landlady, at the door.

"I'll go on," stammered Milt.

Jeff looked at him expressionlessly.

"You will not go on!" Claire was insisting. "Mrs. Barmberry, won't you
cook some eggs or steak or something for these boys?"

"Perhaps," Jeff suggested, "they'd rather make their own dinner by a
campfire. Must be very jolly, and that sort of thing."

"Jeff, if you don't mind, this is my party, just for the moment!"

"Quite right. Sorry!"

"Milt, you sit here by the fire and get warm. I'm not going to be robbed
of the egotistic pleasure of being hospitable. Everybody look happy
now!"

She got them all seated--all but Pinky. He had long since seated
himself, by the fire, in Claire's chair, and he was smoking a cigar from
the box which Jeff had brought for Mr. Boltwood.

Milt sat farthest from the fire, by the dining-table. He was agonizing,
"This Jeff person is the real thing. He's no Percy in riding-breeches.
He's used to society and nastiness. If he looks at me once more--young
garage man found froze stiff, near Flathead Lake, scared look in eyes,
believed to have met a grizzly, no signs of vi'lence. And I thought I
could learn to mingle with Claire's own crowd! I wish I was out in the
bug. I wonder if I can't escape?"

CHAPTER XVIII

THE FALLACY OF ROMANCE

During dinner Milt watched Jeff Saxton's manner and manners. The hot day
had turned into a cold night. Jeff tucked the knitted robe about
Claire's shoulders, when she returned to the fire. He moved quietly and
easily. He kept poking up the fire, smiling at Claire as he did so. He
seemed without difficulty to maintain two conversations: one with Mr.
Boltwood about finances, one with Claire about mysterious persons called
Fannie and Alden and Chub and Bobbie and Dot, the mention of whom made
Milt realize how much a stranger he was. Once, as h