dmiration of his stare. "I tried hard to stop unpleasantness, and
even risked a row with the boss. But it was no use. I couldn't do a
thing."

"But why are you here?" demanded Winifred, and those sorrow-laden eyes
of hers might have won pity from any but one of Fowle's order.

"To help, of course," came the ready assurance. "I can get you a far
better job than stitchin' octavos at Brown's. You're not meanin' to stay
home with your folks, I suppose?"

"That is kind of you," said Winifred. "I may have to depend altogether
on my own efforts, so I shall need work. I'll write to you for a
reference, and perhaps for advice."

She had unwittingly told Fowle just what he was eager to know--that she
was friendless and alone. He prided himself on understanding the ways of
women, and lost no more time in coming to the point.

"Listen, now, Winnie," he said, drawing nearer, "I'd like to see you
through this worry. Forget it. You can draw down twice or three times
the money as a model in Goldberg's Store. I know Goldberg, an' can fix
things. An', say, why mope at home evenings? I often get orders for two
for the theaters an' vaudeville shows. What about comin' along down-town
to-night? A bit of dinner an' a cabaret'd cheer you up after to-day's
unpleasantness."

Winifred grew scarlet with vexation. The man had always been a repulsive
person in her eyes, and, unversed though she was in the world's wiles,
she knew instinctively that his present pretensions were merely a cloak
for rascality. One should be fair to Winifred, too. Like every other
girl, she had pictured the Prince Charming who would come into her life
some day. But--Fowle! Her gorge rose.

"How dare you follow me here and say such vile things?" she cried
hysterically.

"What's up now?" said Fowle in mock surprise. "What have I said that you
should fly off the trolley in that way?"

"I take it that this young lady is telling you to quit," broke in
another voice. "Go, now! Go while the going is good."

Quietly but firmly elbowing Fowle aside, Rex Carshaw raised his hat and
spoke to Winifred.

"If this fellow is annoying you he can soon be dealt with," he said. "Do
you live near? If so, he can stop right here. I'll occupy his mind till
you are out of sight."

The discomfited masher was snarling like a vicious cur. The first swift
glance that measured the intruder's proportions did not warrant any
display of active resentment on his part. Out of the tail of his