a fact which Jack told Garry with a
suggestive laugh, made them always turn their backs on each other when
they parted to go to their respective homes, to which Garry would reply
that it was an outrage and that he was coming up that very night--all
of which he failed to do when the proposed visit was talked over with
Corinne.

None of this affected Jack. He would greet Corinne as affectionately and
cordially as he had ever done. He had taken her measure years before,
but that made no difference to him, he never forgetting that she was his
uncle's nominal daughter; that they had been sheltered by the same roof
and that she therefore in a way belonged to his people. Moreover, he
realized, that like himself, she had been compelled to give up many of
the luxuries and surroundings to which she had been accustomed and which
she loved,--worthless now to Jack in his freedom, but still precious
to her. This in itself was enough to bespeak his sympathy. Not that she
valued it;--she rather sniffed at it.

"I wish Jack wouldn't stand with his hat off until I get aboard the
train," she had told Garry one day shortly after their arrival--"he
makes me so conspicuous. And he wears such queer clothes. He was in
his slouch hat and rough flannel shirt and high boots the other day and
looked like a tramp."

"Better not laugh at Jack, Cory," Garry had replied; "you'll be taking
your own hat off to him one of these days; we all shall. Arthur Breen
missed it when he let him go. Jack's queer about some things, but he's a
thoroughbred and he's got brains!"

"He insulted Mr. Breen in his own house, that's why he let him
go," snapped Corinne. The idea of her ever taking off her hat, even
figuratively, to John Breen, was not to be brooked,--not for an instant.

"Yes, that's one way of looking at it, Cory, but I tell you if Arthur
Breen had had Jack with him these last few months--ever since he left
him, in fact,--and had listened once in a while to what Jack thought
was fair and square, the firm of A. B. & Co. would have a better hold on
things than they've got now; and he wouldn't have dropped that million
either. The cards don't always come up the right way, even when they're
stacked."

"It just served my stepfather right for not giving us some of it, and
I'm glad he lost it," Corinne rejoined, her anger rising again. "I have
never forgiven him for not making me an allowance after I married, and
I never will. He could, at least, have cont