th, Jack, and it's all you. I want to be more than a wife to you, I
want to be a helpmate--but you won't let me."

A wistful expression crept over Echo's countenance.

"Who says so?" he demanded playfully, as if he would punish any man who
dared make such an accusation.

Echo turned on the stool and took his hand. "I know it," she said,
with emphasis. "You've been worried about something for days and
days--don't tell me you haven't."

Jack opened his lips as if to contradict her. "We women learn to look
beneath the surface; what is it, Jack?" she continued.

Jack loosened his wife's handclasp and walked over to the table.

"Nothing--what should I have to worry about?" He spoke carelessly.

"The mortgage?" suggested Echo.

"I paid that off last week," explained Jack.

Echo felt deeply hurt that this news should have been kept from her by
her husband.

"You did, and never told me?" she chided. "Where did you get the
money?" she inquired.

"Why, I--" Jack halted. He could not frame an excuse at once, nor
invent a new lie to cover his old sin. Deeper and deeper he was
getting into the mire of deception.

Echo had arisen from the seat. "It was over three thousand dollars,
wasn't it?" she insisted.

"Something like that," answered Jack noncommittally.

"Well, where did you get it?" demanded his wife.

"An old debt--a friend of mine--I loaned him the money a long time ago
and he paid it back--that's all."

Jack took a drink of water from the olla to hide his confusion.

"Who was it?" persisted Echo.

"You wouldn't know if I told you. Now just stop talking business."

"It isn't fair," declared Echo. "You share all the good things of life
with me, and I want to share some of your business worries. I want to
stand my share of the bad."

Jack saw he must humor her. "When the bad comes I'll tell you," he
assured her, patting her hand.

"You stand between me and the world. You're like a great big mountain,
standing guard over a little tree in the valley, keeping the cold north
wind from treating it too roughly." She sighed contentedly. "But the
mountain does it all."

Jack looked down tenderly at his little wife. Her love for him moved
him deeply.

"Not at all," he said to her. "The little tree grows green and
beautiful. It casts a welcome shade about it, and the heart of the
mountain is made glad to its rocky core to know that the safety of that
little tree is in its keeping."

Taki