h five thousand dollar
motors and throw them away. You'd better go out in the hall and read the
sign on the door. I'm a lawyer, not a father confessor to the
undeserving rich."

"This is serious, Dan," Allen remonstrated, twirling his straw hat
nervously. "All that happened in connection with the smash-up didn't get
into the newspapers."

"The 'Advertiser' had enough of it: they printed, published, and uttered
an extra with Marian's picture next to yours on the first page! You
can't complain of the publicity you got out of that light adventure. How
much space do you think it was worth?"

"Stop chaffing and hear me out! I'm up against a whole lot of trouble,
and I came to get your advice. You see, Dan, the Bassetts didn't know
Marian was going on that automobile trip. Her mother had written
her to leave the Willings' and go home--twice! And her father
telegraphed--after we left the farm. She never got the telegram. Then,
when Mr. Bassett read of the smash in the papers, I guess he was warm
clear through. You know he doesn't cut loose very often; and--"

"And he jumped on the train and went to Chicago to snatch Marian away
from the Willings? I should think he would have done just that."

"No; oh, no! He sent Sylvia!" cried Allen. "Sylvia came up on the night
train, had a few words privately with Marian, took luncheon with the
Willings, all as nice as you please, and off she went with Marian."

Harwood pressed his thumb into his pipe-bowl and puffed in silence for a
moment. Allen, satisfied that he had at last caught his friend's
attention, fanned himself furiously with his hat.

"Well," said Dan finally, "there's nothing so staggering in that.
Sylvia's been staying at the lake: I suppose Mrs. Bassett must have
asked her to go up and bring Marian home when the papers screamed her
daughter's name in red ink. I understand that Mrs. Bassett's ill, and I
suppose Bassett didn't like to leave her. There's nothing fuddlesome in
that. Sylvia probably did the job well. She has the habit. What is there
that troubles you about it, Allen?"

His heart had warmed at the mention of Sylvia, and he felt more kindly
toward Allen now that she had flashed across his vision. Many times a
day he found Sylvia looking up at him from the pages of his books; this
fresh news brought her near. Sylvia's journey to Chicago argued an
intimacy with the Bassetts that he did not reconcile with his knowledge
of her acquaintance with the family. He