sense or
manners than he has now. And I prefer to fight my own battles. So let it
drop, please."

Well, they did. But for the first time, I expect, a few cuttin' remarks
got through Nutt Hamilton's thick hide. He shuffles out of his bear skin
and sneaks off with his head down.

He'd hardly gone when Vee slips up beside me and touches me on the arm.
"We can't do anything with her," she whispers mysterious. "Don't say a
word, but come."

"Can't do anything with who?" says I.

"Joey," says she. "She's in the library, and we can't find out what is
the matter."

"Wha-a-at! Joey?" says I.

It's a fact, though. I finds Joey slumped on a couch with her shoulders
heavin'. She's doin' the sob act genuine and earnest.

"Well, well!" says I. "Why the big weeps?"

She looks up and sees who it is. "Torchy!" says she between sobs.
"Dud-don't tell him. Please!"

"Tell who?" says I.

"B-b-b-blair," says she. "I--wouldn't have him know for--for anything.
But he--he--what he said hurt. He--he called me a meddlesome old maid.
It was something I had to do too. I--I thought he'd understand. I--I
thought he knew I--I liked him!"

"Eh?" says I gaspy.

"I've never cared so much before--about what the others thought," she
goes on. "I'm just Joey to them, out for a good time. I'll always be
Joey, I suppose, to most of them. But I--I thought Blair was different,
you know. I--I----"

And the sobs get the best of the argument. I glances over at Vee
puzzled, and Vee shrugs her shoulders. We drifts back as far as the
door.

"Poor Joey!" says Vee.

"Is it straight," says I, "about her and Blair?"

Vee nods. "Only he doesn't know," says she.

"Then it's time he did," says I.

"There!" says Vee, givin' me a grateful look that tingles clear down to
my toes. "I just knew you could help. But how can----"

"Watch!" says I.

I finds him packin' his precious violin and preparin' to beat it.

"See here, Hiscock," says I. "Maybe you think you're the only one whose
feelin's have been hurt this evenin'."

He stares at me grouchy.

"Ah, ditch the assault and battery!" says I. "It ain't me. But there's
someone in the lib'ry you could soothe with a word or two maybe. Why not
go in and see her?"

"Her?" says he, starin' pop-eyed. "You--you don't mean Miss Billings?"

"Sure!" says I. "Joey, it's you she wants, and if I was you I'd----" But
he's off on the run, with a queer, eager look on his face. I don't
expect there's been so many