k away from the "Kum-quik Tire Company's" repair shop.
He covered that half block on a flat tire and went in for help.

Hawkins came and stood silently beside him as a boy removed the tire.
It was a solemn occasion. They stood there on the pavement,
thoughtful, intently watching the operation. Hawkins was coatless; he
had pink elastics holding up his sleeves and his hair stood up in a
solemn pompadour and his high stiff collar had a spot of grease on it.

"What was the idea of the question you asked me last night, Hawkins?"

There was a moment's silence. Then Hawkins looked up and smiled
queerly. "Oh, nothing particular."

Joe was not satisfied. "Is there any reason why I shouldn't be runnin'
around in that crowd? What's the matter? Aren't they--isn't she--all
right?"

There was a quick, sudden turning of the slim hatchet face and Hawkins
looked hard into his eyes. "It isn't that," he said brusquely. "I'm
engaged to marry her."

"Oh, yes," replied Joe.

The boy wrenched loose the tire and was rolling it into the shop.
Slowly they followed him. Hawkins proceeded to the desk and picked up
a pad of repair forms and started to scribble something on the top
sheet. Joe watched his narrow, bent shoulders under the sleazy shirt.
There was something pathetic in the proud crest of hair above his
forehead and the pucker of lines in his brows.

"How long have you been the lucky man?"

Hawkins looked up from his paper. Faint surprise was written in his
face. "Oh, a little over three years. Want to wait for this tube or
will you come back for it? Man can put on your spare."

"I'll come hack for it Monday," said Joe.

A few moments later he drove away.

For an hour he drove without thought of where he was going. Detail
after detail of the affair presented itself to his mind in endless
repetition. It had been a humiliating experience. The old woman's
vulgarity; Macomber's stolid, iron hand clearing the air, like
brushing trash from his doorstep; the consciousness of prying eyes at
that upstairs window! "I've been a feeble cuckoo," he thought. "Mighta
supposed two years in the army would have taught me better'n that.
Played me for a good thing as long as it lasted and then the old lady
called a showdown. Hawkins must stand in with the old lady. Poor
Hawkins!"

He discovered that he was rolling along on the Bloomfield pike about
two miles from town.

"Funny how these hard-workin' folks sink all their money in a
butterf