No, I am not from them," Prescott replied, then added, truthfully
enough: "But it's partly about that building loan matter that
I wish to talk with you."

"Who sent you here?" asked Drake, half-suspiciously.

"A child," Dick replied. "At least, it was a child's face that
gave me the resolution to come here and have a few words with you."

"A child?" repeated Drake. "What child?"

"Yours."

"A child?" echoed the young man. "Mine? Do you mean Mollie?"

"Yes," Dick went on, rapidly. "The child wanted to come here
herself to get you, and I came in her stead. It was better that
I should come than that little tot. Don't you think so?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand you," returned Tom Drake, beginning
to look offended.

"Mr. Drake, do you know that your wife and child are all dressed
up---in their prettiest white gowns, waiting for you to come
back to bring them into town to-night for the promised treat?
Don't you understand the pain that you're giving them by showing
that you prefer a lot of red-nosed loafers in Miller's to your
own wife and child? The unhappiness that you're causing them
to-night isn't a circumstance to all the misery that you're piling
up for them in the years to come. Switch off! Switch off, while
you're yet man enough to be able to do it! Won't you do it---please?
You must know just how happy that little kid will be when she
sees you come swinging down the street to bring her and her mother
into town. You know how that little tot's eyes will shine. Can't
you hear her saying, `Here's papa! He's come.' Isn't that baby
worth a twenty-mile walk for any man to see when he knows she's
his own kiddie and waiting for him? Come along, now; they're
both waiting for you; they will be the happiest pair you've seen
in a long time."

"I don't know but I will toddle along home," said Drake, rather
shame-facedly. "I---I didn't realize how time was slipping by.
Yes; I guess I'll go home. Much obliged to you for letting me
know the time."

But at that moment the door opened, and a voice called out:

"Drake! Oh, Drake. Come here; we want you."

"Can't, now," the young man called back. "I'm due at home."

"Home?" came in two or three jeering voices.

Then several men came out of the saloon, laughing boisterously.

"Come back, Drake! We can't let you slip off like that. You're
too good a fellow to play the sneak with us. Come on back!"

"I---I tell you, I'm due at home," insisted D