"One can start a back-fire on the
prairie," he said reflectively. "I fancy the same process might work
successfully with Blair also."

"Perhaps," admitted Florence. The time came when both she and Sidwell
remembered that suggestion.

But the subject was too large to be dropped immediately.

"Something tells me," Sidwell added, after a moment, "that you are a bit
fearful of this Blair. Did the gentleman ever attempt to kidnap you--or
anything?"

Florence did not smile. "No," she answered.

"What was it, then? Were you in love, and he cold--or the reverse?"

Florence dropped her chin into her hands. "To be frank with you, it
was--the reverse; but I would rather not speak of it." She was silent
for a moment. "You are right, though," she continued, rather recklessly,
"when you say I'm afraid of him. I don't dare think of him, even. I want
to forget he was ever a part of my life. He overwhelms me like sleep
when I'm tired. I am helpless."

Unconsciously Sidwell had stumbled upon the closet which held the
skeleton. "And I--" he queried, "are you afraid of me?"

The girl's great brown eyes peered out above her hands steadily.

"No; with us it is not of you I'm afraid--it's of myself." She arose
slowly. "I'm ready to go driving if you wish," she said.

CHAPTER XX

CLUB CONFIDENCES

Late the same evening, in the billiard-room of the "Loungers Club"
Clarence Sidwell met one Winston Hough, seemingly by chance, though in
fact very much the reverse. Big and blonde, addicted to laughter, Hough
was one of the few men with whom Sidwell fraternized,--why, only the
Providence which makes like and unlike attract each other could have
explained. However, it was with deliberate intent that Sidwell entered
the most brilliantly lighted room in the place and sought out the group
of which Hough was the centre.

"Hello, Chad!" the latter greeted the new-comer. "I've just trimmed up
Watson here, and I'm looking for new worlds to conquer. I'll roll you
fifty points to see who pays for a lunch afterward."

Sidwell smiled tolerantly. "I think it would be better for my reputation
to settle without playing. Put up your stick and I'm with you."

Hough shook his head. "No," he objected, "I'm not a Weary Willie. I
prefer to earn my dole first. Come on."

But Sidwell only looked at him. "Don't be stubborn," he said. "I want to
talk with you."

Hough returned his cue to the rack lingeringly. "Of course, if you put
it that way