"'But me no buts,' my lady!" warned Douglas. "I know what you would say. Save it! You can't do anything that way. Mickey is right. She _is_ his. He found her in her last extremity, in rags, on the floor in a dark corner of an attic. He carried her home in that condition, to a clean bed his mother left him. Since, he has been her gallant little knight, lying on the floor on his winter bedding, feeding her first and most, not a thought for himself. God, Leslie! I don't stand for anything coming between Mickey and his child, his 'family' he calls her. He's the biggest small specimen I ever have seen. I'll fight his cause in any court in the country, if his right to her is questioned, as it will be the minute she is taken to a surgeon or a hospital." "How old is she?" asked Leslie. "Neither of them knows. About ten, I should think." "How has he managed to keep her hidden this long?" "He lives in an attic. The first woman he tried to get help from started the Home question, and frightened him; so he appealed to a nurse he met through being connected with an accident; she gave him supplies, instructions and made Lily gowns." "But why didn't she----?" began Leslie. "She may have thought the child was his sister," said Douglas. "She's the loveliest little thing, Leslie!" "Very little?" asked Leslie. "Tiny is the word," said Douglas. "It's the prettiest sight I ever saw to watch him wait on her, and to see her big, starved, scared eyes follow him with adoring trust." "Adoration on both sides, then," laughed Leslie. "You imply I'm selecting too big words," said Douglas. "Wait till you see her, and see them together." "It's a problem!" said Leslie. "Yes, I admit that!" conceded Douglas, "but it isn't _your_ problem." "But they can't go on that way!" cried Leslie. "I grant that," said Douglas. "All I stipulate is that Mickey shall be left to plan their lives himself, and in a way that makes him happy." "That's only fair to him!" said Leslie. "Now you are grasping and assimilating the situation properly," commented Douglas. When they returned to the cabin they found Mr. Winton stretched in a hammock smoking. Douglas took a blanket and Leslie a cushion on the steps, while all of them watched the moon pass slowly across Atwater. "How are you progressing with the sinners of Multiopolis?" asked Mr. Winton of Douglas. "Fine!" he answered. "I've found what I think will turn out to be a big defalcation. Somebody drops out in disgrace with probably a penitentiary sentence." "Oh Douglas! How can you?" cried Leslie. "How can a man live in luxury when he is stealing other people's money to pay the bills?" he retorted. "Yes I know, but Douglas, I wish you would buy this place and plow corn, or fish for a living." "Sometimes I have an inkling that before I finish with this I shall wish so too," replied he. "What do you think, Daddy?" asked Leslie.