sited mother and daughter than Bojo broke
out:

"Fred, what in the name of heaven possessed you to put Louise Varney's
money in a speculation? How many others have you told?"

"Only a few--very few."

"But, Fred, think of the responsibility! Now look here, straight from
the shoulder--do you know what's going to happen? Before you know it,
you're going to wake up and find yourself married to Louise Varney!"

"Don't jump on me, Bojo," said Fred, miserably. "I'm scared to death
myself."

"But, Fred, you can't do such a thing. Louise is pretty--attractive
enough--I'll admit it--and straight; but the mother, Fred--you can't do
it, you'll just drop out. It'll be the end of you. Man, can't you see
it? I thought you prided yourself on being a man of the world. Look at
your friends. There's Gladys Stone--crazy about you. You know it. Are
you going to throw all that away!"

"If I was sure of a hundred thousand dollars I believe I'd marry Louise
to-morrow!" said Fred with a long breath. "Call me crazy--I am crazy--a
raving, tearing fool, but that doesn't help. Lord, nothing helps!"

"Fred, answer me one question. We all thought, the night of the ball,
you and Gladys Stone had come to an understanding. Is that true?"

Fred turned his head and groaned.

"I'm a cad, a horrible, beastly little cad!"

"Good Lord, is it as bad as that!" said Bojo. "But, Fred, old boy, how
did it happen? How did you ever get in so deep!"

"How do I know?" said DeLancy miserably. "It was just playing around.
Other men were crazy over her. I never meant to be serious in the
beginning--and then--then I was caught."

"Fred, old fellow, you've got to get hold of yourself. Will you let me
butt in?"

"I wish to God you would."

That night Bojo sent a long letter off to Doris, who was staying in the
Berkshires with Gladys Stone as a guest. As a result the two young men
departed for a week-end of winter sports. On the Pullman they stowed
their valises and wandered back into the smoker where the first person
Bojo saw, bound for the same destination, was young Boskirk.

CHAPTER XII

SNOW MAGIC

Boskirk and Bojo greeted each other with that excessive cordiality which
the conventions of society impose upon two men who hate each other
cordially but are debarred from the primeval instincts to slay.

"He wouldn't gamble, he wouldn't take a risk! Oh no, nothing human about
him," said Bojo to Fred, sending a look of antagonism at Boskirk, wh