gly applied, and a heavy, even, blue
black, but they needed tapping. His brown eyes had a big, rather hungry
look that was unquestionably picturesque, and Miss Natalie Ward would
have approved of it, if his mother did not, watching him as she trailed
in and out of the room.

"Making out all right? Don't hurry," she said.

"I'm in no hurry to get there," agreed her son.

"He won't say no to you. He never has yet, and he likes you."

"Oh, he won't say no. Nothing new will happen to me in this town; not
even that."

Neil's mother paused, balancing her clothes basket against one hip, and
deftly favouring the string-mended handle, then put it heavily down, and
leaned on the table and looked at him--a small, tired, pretty woman,
with gray, far-away eyes that were like no other eyes in Green River,
and a smile like Neil's.

"Tired?" she said.

"Dog tired."

"Well, you were out till three."

"One. That was Maggie you heard at three. Where was she?"

"That's her business."

"It's Charlie's, if he's going to marry her."

"It's not yours, then. Never mind Maggie. Your uncle and I had a talk
about you last night."

"Why don't you ask to see my dance order?" He made a defensive clutch
at his pocket as if she had, and quick colour swept into his cheeks. She
watched it, and watched it fade, leaving his face tired and sullen, and
too old for its years. "Uncle!"

"He's been like a father to you."

"I've been two sons to him, then. He's worked me like two. If he grudges
the time I take off, I can make it up to him. There's been little enough
of it, and there'll be little more, and there's been little enough
enjoyment in it, and I'm not ashamed of it. Why don't he spy on his own
daughter, if he's curious? Why----" This outburst ended as suddenly as
it began, in a short, sullen laugh as he pushed his empty cup away. "Dan
thinks he can land something for me with the telephone company. I
couldn't send money home at first, but I'd be off your hands. Tell that
to Uncle."

"Would you be with Dan, in Wells?"

"Somewhere outside Wells. It won't be too gay. You needn't be afraid
I'll go to too many dances."

"Don't glare at me. I'm not your uncle."

"Sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Don't you?"

He flushed, laughed, and ignored the question, producing a small box and
offering it. "I got that last night. Don't wipe your hands. They're good
enough to handle it wet." A gold medal glittered in her hand. He
obs