sed to stay out there and
take a hand in the work."

"Why, this is the first word you've said about it," said Polly, amazed.

"Had I known you were so deeply interested in the plans of young Latimer,
I would have told you immediately," said Jack, with sarcasm born of
jealousy in his voice.

Polly refused to answer him, and immediately asked Mrs. Fabian to excuse
her from dinner as she wished to dress for the evening.

The rest of the family finished the meal with the uncomfortable sense of
Jack's having lost caste in Polly's estimation. He felt it himself, and
it certainly did not tend to make him more agreeable that evening.

As soon after dinner as could be politely managed, Jack spoke of a
theatre engagement and excused himself. His hostesses felt easier when
the door slammed upon him, for they dreaded having Tom announced while
his rival was there, and then have the whole evening spoiled by both
young men glowering at each other.

While Eleanor and Nancy ran upstairs to dress for the evening, the former
whispered: "If Tom remains in New York all this winter, I bet he'll _get_
Polly before he goes back to the mines, or else he'll 'cook his goose'
for all time!"

Nancy laughed merrily, and said: "No goose will be cooked if Polly knows
it! But I'll wager you a box of candy, Nolla, that Tom will _not_ get his
girl before he goes back to the mines."

"All right, Nanc! That's a wager; a five-pound box of the best _bon
bons_, that Tom and Polly will be engaged before the end of this winter
season!"

CHAPTER XIII

TOM MEANS BUSINESS

Polly's friends had not completed their dressing when Tom was announced,
but she was waiting in the cozy library; so Tom crossed the long formal
parlor in a few strides, when he caught sight of her in the softly shaded
light of the floor-lamp.

"Polly! Oh, but I'm glad to see you again!" breathed he as he caught both
hands and devoured her smiles with his eyes.

"I should hope you would be glad! Isn't everyone I know glad to see me
after they have been absent a long time?" laughed Polly, in a
matter-of-fact tone.

But Tom glanced hastily about the room. Then he quite unexpectedly leaned
forward and caught her face between his palms. "Polly Brewster, I'm going
to salute you with a brotherly kiss!" whispered Tom, and immediately, he
pressed a kiss upon her red lips--but Polly felt sure it was _not_ like
John's kisses.

She tried to free her head from his powerful hands