estion Priscilla Glenn had
introduced into the bare, cleanly room an atmosphere of danger, a curious
sense of unreality and excitement.

"Yes--they do pay," Farwell said slowly; "but where in heaven's name did
you get such ideas?"

The girl looked impishly saucy. She was making a sensation again and,
while Anton Farwell was not affected as her parents had been, he was
undoubtedly impressed.

"It's this way: You have to sell what you've got until you get something
better. There isn't an earthly thing I can do but dance now; of course I
can learn. Don't you remember the nice story about the old woman who went
to market her eggs for to sell? Master Farwell, I'm like her, and my
dancing is my--egg!"

She was laughing now, this unreasoning, unreasonable girl, and she was
laughing more at Farwell's perplexity than at her own glibness. She must
soon go, her time was growing short, but she was enjoying herself
immensely.

Looking at her, Farwell was suddenly convinced of one overpowering fact:
Priscilla Glenn was destined for--living! Hers was one of those natures
that flash now and then upon a commonplace existence, a strange soul from
an unknown port, never resting until it finds its way back.

"Poor little girl!" whispered Farwell, and then he talked to her.

Would she let him go to her father and mother?

"What's the use?" questioned Priscilla, and she told him of the
experience in the woods. "Father saw only evil when it was the most
beautiful thing that ever happened."

Farwell saw a wider stretch and more danger.

"But I will try, and anyway, Priscilla, if I promise to help you get
ready, will you promise me to do nothing without consulting me?"

This the girl was ready enough to do. She was restless and defiant under
her new emotion, but intuitively she had sought Farwell because he had
before aided her and sympathized with her. Yes, she would confide in him.

That night Farwell called at Lonely Farm. Followed by his two lean, ugly
sledge dogs he made his way to the barn where Nathaniel was doing the
evening's work. While the men talked, the dogs, behind the building,
fought silently and ferociously. Farwell had fed one before he left home
and a bitter jealousy lay between the animals. It was almost more than
one might hope that the master could influence Glenn or change his mind,
but Farwell did bring to bear an argument that, because nothing else
presented itself, swayed the father.

"You cannot get th