"Mrs. Hastings had her taken out of town, and told her if she came there again she would have her put in an asylum for drunkards. After that she threatened to descend upon Fanny Maud. Fanny could not afford to have her career spoiled. Perhaps we were cruel. I read the scorching letter you wrote to Fanny after her--after mother's death. But Fanny was not angry with you, and--and she was willing to have me come to you now. Next spring she will graduate in vocal music from the highest university in the country, and then she goes to Paris to study under the artists there. Jappie, she has made a large part of it, herself, teaching and singing in the church choir, and studying whenever she had enough money ahead. At last Uncle Francis died and left her a snug little sum, and she went to New York, where they say her voice is a wonder. We should be proud of her. She wants you to come with me in June to hear her sing when she graduates." Jap stared at the floor. She laid her hand coaxingly on his shoulder. "Of course Jap will go!" Bill's brown eyes were glowing. Jap looked across at him in astonishment and wonder. His brain reeled. The day had been too full. "And you?" the girl queried, smiling into those dancing brown eyes. "We can't both go at once," he blurted. "The paper has to come out on time." She arose and wandered through the rooms that occupied the lower floor of the building, stepping from a hasty and uncomprehending glance at the press room and the composing room to dwell with critical eye on the big, bare office. "You need a little fixing up," she commented. "You should have a nice rug and shades, and a roll-top desk and swivel chair." "So we should," lamented Bill, looking around with an air of disapproval. "But not having anybody to tell us----" He stopped short, embarrassed. "I guess that I will have to keep house for Jappie, and boss the office too. That is, if you want me, Jappie," she appealed. "Mrs. Hastings died last March, and I have been with Fanny ever since. My foster-mother left me well provided for. I won't be a burden, Jappie," she cried. "We have all made good. We must rejoice together." Bill was half way across the office in his excitement. "You can take Flossy's house," he burst out. "It's ready any time, because Pap had it completely overhauled after the tenants moved out. It's the only ready-furnished house in Bloomtown and----" His voice lowered and there was a note of wistfulness in it. "Jap, Flossy would be so happy!" Jap surveyed his erstwhile desperate friend with a gleam of merriment. As yet, Bill did not know but that his sacrificing partner was a fugitive from the law. He had not even remembered to ask about the well-being of Wilfred Jones and his wife. "Perhaps Aggie--Mabelle," he hastily corrected, "is just joking. She would hardly like to bury herself in this little town after New York. There would be so little to compensate."