Let it be understood now that Jimmie's ideals of morality were based entirely upon the Bucktown standard. Floe was the best dressed woman in Bucktown; she lived in the best house in Bucktown; she was the handsomest woman in Bucktown; and these facts, to Jimmie's child mind, put Floe and the Dolly resort far in the lead of anything in Bucktown. He knew nothing of their business, and the question of their being wrong had never entered his head. Had any one asked Jimmie a question about the character of this black-eyed woman, his answer would have been, "She's an angel, sure." The little girls in the neighborhood would say, "When I git big I'm goin' ter have clothes like them girls, an' go ridin' in hacks with white horses. Gee, won't I shine!" The highest ideals of womanhood to these little girls were the women of the Dolly resort. Is it any wonder that Jimmie was interested when he heard Floe scream? When he reached the house he saw her lying at the foot of the stairs; he rushed to her side as others were trying to get her upon her feet. They put her upon a couch and sent for a doctor. "Did yer fall downstairs?" asked Jimmie. "Oh, Jimmie, what are you doing in this awful place?" she said. "This is worse than hell itself; do go out, child; I can't stand to see your pure face in a place like this." "If it ain't er good place fer me, it ain't fer you, Floe. Yer better 'n I am, er ever could be. Are yer hurted much?" Just then Doctor Snyder came in, and after a brief examination said he found a broken arm and three broken ribs. Floe would not tell how she happened to fall; but several who saw it said that a girl by the name of Maud, in a fit of jealousy, had pushed her downstairs. "Hello, kid! What are you doing here?" said Doctor Snyder to Jimmie. "You should be in bed at this time of night. How's Bill Cook getting on?" "Bill's better," said Jimmie, "an' Mrs. Cook got converted at der Mission ter-night, and she's happy all over. When I left there she was prayin' at Bill's bed and he was cryin'. I'll bet he gits saved next." "You better go home and go to bed, Jimmie; you're excited to-night. You'll feel better in the morning," said the doctor, with a knowing wink at the people standing around. "We must get this girl to her room now." "Can I come ter see yer to-morrow, Floe?" asked Jimmie. "If the doctor will let you come; but I don't like to have you come into this awful house." "I'll be here jus' the same; I'm goin' ter ast Jesus ter help yer," he whispered to her, and slipped quietly out into the street and started for the barn. When he reached there, Dave sat in his old office chair smoking and trying to look unconcerned; but it was plain to Jimmie that he had something on his mind besides his hat. "Where have you been so late?" he said to Jimmie. "Sit down and tell me about it."