t
us know," said Patsie with her large eyes fixed sadly on his face in
unbelief.

"I'm in a fight--a big fight, Tom, that's all, a little tougher than
other fights," he said loudly as though talking to himself. "If you want
to see some ructions and learn a few things that may help you in dealing
with certain brands of coyotes later, why come in--just possible you
might fit in handy."

"Thank you, sir," said Bojo gratefully, exalted to the seventh Heaven by
this permission, which seemed to bring him back the old intimacy. Patsie
was looking at him with shining eyes.

"Yes, but how about your work--the factory?" said Drake.

"The factory be damned," said Bojo fervidly, with the American instinct
for the fitness of the direct word. All broke out laughing at his
impetuosity.

"Well, Tom, I always did want you in the family," said Drake, clapping
him on the shoulder with a sly look at Patsie. "Have it as you wish.
I'll be mighty glad to have you, though you did give me a pretty stiff
lesson!"

At this moment when Patsie and Bojo did not dare to look at each other,
the situation was luckily saved by the announcement of dinner.

In the dining-room they waited several moments for Mrs. Drake to appear
until finally a footman brought the news that the mistress of the house
was indisposed and begged them to sit down without her. Drake looked
rather startled at this and went off into a moody abstraction for quite
a while, during which Patsie exchanged solicitous glances with Bojo.

"It is more serious than he will admit," he thought. "I must get a
chance to speak to him alone. He will never tell the truth before
Drina."

Dinner over, a rather anxious meal partaken of in long silences with
occasional bursts of forced conversation, Bojo found opportunity to
whisper to Patsie as they returned towards the library.

"Make some excuse and leave us as soon as you can. I'll see you before I
go."

She gave him a slight movement of her eyes to show she comprehended and
went dancing in ahead.

"Now before you begin on business, let me make you both comfortable,"
she cried. She indicated chairs and pushed them into their seats,
laughing. She brought the cigars and insisted on serving them with
lights, while each watched her, charmed and soothed by the grace and
youth of her spirits, though each knew the reason of her assuming. She
camped finally on the arm of her father's chair, with a final enveloping
hug, which under the app