Considering all things--the happenings of the past few hours, at least--Buzz, as he strolled on down toward Grand Avenue with his sauntering, care-free gait, did undoubtedly look kind of funny. The red-hot rage of the afternoon and the white-hot rage of the evening had choked the furnace of brain and soul with clinkers so that he was thinking unevenly and disconnectedly. On the surface he was cool and unruffled. He stopped for a moment at the railroad tracks to talk with Stumpy Gans, the one-legged gateman. The little bell above Stumpy's shanty was ringing its warning, so he strolled leisurely over to the depot platform to see the 7:15 come in from Chicago. When the train pulled out Buzz went on down the street. His mind was darting here and there, planning this revenge, discarding it; seizing on another, abandoning that. He'd show'm. He'd show'm. Sick of the whole damn bunch, anyway.... Wonder was Hatton going to raise a shindy.... Let'm. Who cares?... The old man was a drunk, that's what.... Ma had looked kinda sick.... He put that uncomfortable thought out of his mind and slammed the door on it. Anyway, he'd show'm. Out of the shadows of the great trees in front of the Agassiz School stepped the Kearney girl, like a lean and hungry cat. One hand clutched his arm. Buzz jumped and said something under his breath. Then he laughed, shortly. "Might as well kill a guy as scare him to death!" She thrust one hand through his arm and linked it with the other. "I've been waiting for you, Buzz." "Yeh. Well, let me tell you something. You quit traipsing up and down in front of my house, see?" "I wanted to see you. An' I didn't know whether you was coming down town to-night or not." "Well, I am. So now you know." He pulled away from her, but she twined her arm the tighter about his. "Ain't sore at me, are yuh, Buzz?" "No. Leggo my arm." "If you're sore because I been foolin' round with that little wart of a Donahue--" She turned wise eyes up to him, trying to make them limpid in the darkness. "What do I care who you run with?" "Don't you care, Buzz?" The words were soft but there was a steel edge to her utterance. "No." "Oh, Buzz, I'm batty about you. I can't help it, can I? H'm? Look here, you go on to Grand, and hang around for an hour, maybe, and I'll meet you here an' we'll walk a ways. Will you? I got something to tell you." "Naw, I can't to-night. I'm busy." And then the steel edge cut. "Buzz, if you turn me down I'll have you up." "Up?" "Before old Colt. I can fix up charges. He'll believe it. Say, he knows me, Judge Colt does. I can name you an'--" "Me!" Sheer amazement rang in his voice. "Me? You must be crazy. I ain't had anything to do with you. You make me sick." "That don't make any difference. You can't prove it. I told you I was crazy about you. I told you--"