is chin high, filling his lungs as best
he might with the hot and lifeless air. The sound of his footfalls
passed down the street, and was lost as he turned at the further corner
of the square.

"Good night, now," said Aurora Lane once more, as she and her companion
approached her little gate.

But Hod Brooks did not turn away, although he made no attempt to enter.
Instead he reached out a large hand impulsively and arrested hers as it
would have pulled together the little crippled gate behind her. Still
she did close the gate--until the sudden impact of his own weight
snapped off its last remaining hinge. He picked it up carelessly and set
it within the fence, himself leaning against the post, filling the gap,
his hands back in his pockets.

"Aurora," said he, with a strange softness in his voice, "this seems to
me almost like Providence."

"What do you mean?" she said. "I must go----"

"Please, not yet," said he. "Just think--how else could it have been
possible for me to talk with you?"

"Without compromising yourself?" She smiled slowly and bitterly, but did
not see the hot blood rise to his face.

"That's not right!" said he. "Without compromising _you_--that's what I
meant. I only meant that there is no place where we well could meet. And
I wanted to say something to you, at last--what sometime has got to be
said between us."

"We both know everything now, so why talk?" said she. "It was fine of
you today in the trial. We owe so much--we'll pay when we can."

The dull red in his face deepened. "You may stop that, if you please,"
said he. "It's not right between us. The showdown has come. Why not
settle up, at last?"

She turned, not knowing what to do, unwilling to leave him standing
there.

"It's been years, Aurora. Now, listen--I'm going on up in the world
myself, at last. I want to take you with me. I didn't want to say
anything till the right time. It's been a long, hard pull for me, too,
here in this town. It's hard for men like me to talk."

"You mustn't talk," said she. "You mustn't say a word--you mustn't be
seen here even."

He looked at her slowly. "I'm here deliberately," said he. "Listen
now--I must tell you some things, Aurora. I've loved you from the first
day I saw you. Can't you credit me at least a little? You're
splendid--you're beautiful--and you're good."

She choked a bit, raised a hand in swift protest.

"You're still young, Aurora," said he, not paying attention to what s