nder the
admiring eyes of a crowd of gapers. And Hattie? She liked him in a
half-contemptuous, half-amused way. He was a good-looking boy and made
money enough, as she expressed it, to show her a good time, so she was
willing to overlook his weakness and his callow vanity.

"Look here," she said to him one day, "I guess you 'll have to be
moving. There 's a young lady been inquiring for you to-day, and I won't
stand for that."

He looked at her, startled for a moment, until he saw the laughter in
her eyes. Then he caught her and kissed her. "What 're you givin' me?"
he said.

"It 's a straight tip, that 's what."

"Who is it?"

"It 's a girl named Minty Brown from your home."

His face turned brick-red with fear and shame. "Minty Brown!" he
stammered.

Had that girl told all and undone him? But Hattie was going on about her
work and evidently knew nothing.

"Oh, you need n't pretend you don't know her," she went on banteringly.
"She says you were great friends down South, so I 've invited her to
supper. She wants to see you."

"To supper!" he thought. Was she mocking him? Was she restraining her
scorn of him only to make his humiliation the greater after a while? He
looked at her, but there was no suspicion of malice in her face, and he
took hope.

"Well, I 'd like to see old Minty," he said. "It 's been many a long day
since I 've seen her."

All that afternoon, after going to the barber-shop, Joe was driven by a
tempest of conflicting emotions. If Minty Brown had not told his story,
why not? Would she yet tell, and if she did, what would happen? He
tortured himself by questioning if Hattie would cast him off. At the
very thought his hand trembled, and the man in the chair asked him if he
had n't been drinking.

When he met Minty in the evening, however, the first glance at her
reassured him. Her face was wreathed in smiles as she came forward and
held out her hand.

"Well, well, Joe Hamilton," she exclaimed, "if I ain't right-down glad
to see you! How are you?"

"I 'm middlin', Minty. How 's yourself?" He was so happy that he could
n't let go her hand.

"An' jes' look at the boy! Ef he ain't got the impidence to be waihin' a
mustache too. You must 'a' been lettin' the cats lick yo' upper lip. Did
n't expect to see me in New York, did you?"

"No, indeed. What you doin' here?"

"Oh, I got a gent'man friend what 's a porter, an' his run 's been
changed so that he comes hyeah, an' he told me, if I