he task of "cutting Mary out of the main herd" so that he
might talk with her. Thus it happened that, failing a secluded spot in
the immediate neighborhood of the Casino, which buzzed like a
disturbed hive of gigantic bees, Mary presently found herself on a car
that was clanging its signal of departure, and there was no sign of
Freddie and Lola Parsons.

"We lost 'em, back there," Andy told her calmly when she inquired.
"And as to where we're going, I don't know; as far as this
lightning-wagon will take us."

"This car goes clear out to the Cliffs," Mary said discouragingly.

"All right. We're going out to the cliffs, then," Andy smiled blandly
down upon the nodding, white feather in her hat.

"But I promised Lola and Freddie--"

"Oh, that's all right. I'll take the blame. Were yuh surprised to see
me here?"

"Why should I be? Everybody comes to Santa Cruz, sooner or later."

"I came sooner," said Andy, trying to meet her eye. He wanted to bring
the conversation to themselves, so that he might explain and justify
himself, and win forgiveness for his sins.

While they walked along the cliffs he tried, and going home he had not
given up the attempt. But afterward, when he could sit down quietly
and think, he was forced to admit that he had not succeeded very well.
It seemed to him that, while Mary still liked him and was quite ready
to be friends, she had forgotten just why she had so suddenly left
Montana. She was sorry he had broken his leg, but in the same breath,
almost, she told him of such a narrow escape that Freddie had last
week, when an auto nearly ran him down. Andy regretted keenly that it
had not.

He had mentioned Irish and Jack Bates, meaning to refute the tales
they had told of him, and she had asked about the black lamb and the
white, and then had told him that he must go out to the whistling buoy
and see the real whale they had anchored out there, and related with
much detail how Freddie had taken her and Lola out, and how the water
was so rough she got seasick, and a wave splashed over and ruined
Freddie's new summer suit, that spotted dreadfully; it wasn't, she
remarked, a durable color. She hoped Andy would stay a month or two,
though the "season" was about over. She knew he would just love the
plunge and the surf-bathing, and there was going to be a boomers'
barbacue up at the Big Trees in two weeks--and it would seem like home
to him, seeing a cow roasted whole! She did love Montana, and