“No, and I don’t suppose he ever saw him before, anyway. Davy probably didn’t ride in taxicabs much when he was here. Still, it was a fool thing to do, and I recognize that fact now that it’s too late. But――hang it!――I had to get a car somewhere. He couldn’t have found one in Hale’s Bridge; that’s a cinch!” “Oh, well, he will be gone by to-morrow night,” replied the other, reassuringly. “No use worrying, I guess.” Footsteps sounded behind them and Betty came out and seated herself beside Barry. Both boys looked at her inquiringly. After a moment Betty said in a queerly hushed voice: “He’s awfully different, Peaches, isn’t he?” “Davy? Yes, he sure is, but I like it, Betty. He’s older and has a lot more pep. As I said to Barry, I guess having to make your own way does that to a chap. How did Mr. Benjy――er――” “He’s as happy as anything,” said Betty. “He’s holding Davy’s hand and smiling at him. He hasn’t said much. I suppose he’s too glad. Oh, I do wish there wasn’t this――this thing to spoil it!” Betty dabbed at her eyes with a tiny wad of handkerchief and Peaches patted her shoulder. “Don’t you worry,” he said. “Everything will come out all right after a while. Davy’s got a corking good job at last, he tells me, and will be making real money. These folks here are bound to forget their grouch pretty soon, and then Davy can come home for week-ends and――and everything will be pie!” “That would be nice,” murmured Betty. Then, more briskly: “Speaking of money, Peaches, I want you to keep account of every cent you’ve spent and――” “Got it all down, to a penny,” replied Peaches, cheerfully. “Don’t worry about that, Betty. What you’d better do is go over my expense account pretty carefully when I present it. Jumpin’ Jupiter! That reminds me that I’ve got a letter to write. Guess I’d better tear myself away and attend to it. You know where to find me if anything’s needed, Betty.” They all went in, Barry rubbing chilled hands together as he bade Betty good night and followed Peaches upstairs. Peaches had paused outside Toby Nott’s door and was counting a small roll of bills. “Eight, nine―― Got enough to pay my debts, I guess.” He knocked and a voice responded, “Yeah! Who is it?” “In bed, Toby? It’s Jones.” “What you want?” “Just want to pay you back that six dollars,” answered Peaches, winking at Barry. “Come in!” called Toby, animatedly. Toby was in bed, sure enough, but he appeared to have no present interest in sleep. He had both his pillows behind him and an electric drop over his tousled head. There was a large, serious-looking volume on his knees and on a chair beside him sat Antonio, tethered by one hind leg and staring raptly at the electric bulb. Antonio looked indecently large and gross, as though the sybaritic life he had been leading had somehow coarsened his nature. He paid no attention to the visitors, but continued his basilisk contemplation of the light.