"All I can do," he thought, "is just to go right ahead as though this hadn't happened at all. If trouble comes, it comes, that's all. I guess I can meet it. Always _have_ got away with it, so far. We'll see. What's on the cards has got to be played to a finish, and the best hand wins!" He retraced his way to the spring, where he carefully rinsed and filled the Cosmos bottle for Beatrice. Then back to the Metropolitan he came, donned his bear--skin, which he fastened with a wire nail, and started the long climb. His sledge he carefully hid on the second floor, in an office at the left of the stairway. "Don't think much of this hammer, after all," said he. "What I need is an ax. Perhaps this afternoon I can have another go at that hardware place and find one. "If the handle's gone, I can heft it with green wood. With a good ax and these two revolvers--till I find some rifles--I guess we're safe enough, spearheads or not!" About him he glanced at the ever-present molder and decay. This office, he could easily see, had been both spacious and luxurious, but now it offered a sorry spectacle. In the dust over by a window something glittered dully. Stern found it was a fragment of a beveled mirror, which had probably hung there and, when the frame rotted, had dropped. He brushed it off and looked eagerly into it. A cry of amazement burst from him. "Do I look like _that?_" he shouted. "Well, I won't, for long!" He propped the glass up on the steel beam of the window-opening, and got the scissors out of the bag. Ten minutes later, the face of Allan Stern bore some resemblance to its original self. True enough, his hair remained a bit jagged, especially in the back, his brows were somewhat uneven, and the point to which his beard was trimmed was far from perfect. But none the less his wild savagery had given place to a certain aspect of civilization that made the white bearskin over his shoulders look doubly strange. Stern, however, was well pleased. He smiled in satisfaction. "What will _she_ think, and say?" he wondered, as he once more took up the bag and started on the long, exhausting climb. Sweating profusely, badly "blown,"--for he had not taken much time to rest on the way--the engineer at last reached his offices in the tower. Before entering, he called the girl's name. "Beatrice! Oh, Beatrice! Are you awake, and visible?" "All right, come in!" she answered cheerfully, and came to meet him in the doorway. Out to him she stretched her hand, in welcome; and the smile she gave him set his heart pounding. He had to laugh at her astonishment and naive delight over his changed appearance; but all the time his eyes were eagerly devouring her beauty. For now, freshly-awakened, full of new life and vigor after a sound night's sleep, the girl was magnificent. The morning light disclosed new glints of color in her wondrous hair, as it lay broad and silken on the tiger-skin.