"Oh, I understand you now--you're saying that to try and make me change my mind. But I shan't--not for anybody." Helen crossed the room to her cousin and gave Sadie the benefit of the look of defiance with which she had confronted Travers Gladwin. "Oh, please, please don't say that, Helen," cried Sadie, all a-flutter. "I know he will agree to a postponement." "But I don't want any postponement," protested Helen. "I told you what I intended doing and I'm going to do it." "Go on, tell her again--we'd all like to hear it," broke in Gladwin. Helen swung around and said dramatically: "I'm going to marry Travers Gladwin to-night." Travers Gladwin reeled a little where he stood, met and turned from the beaming stare of Whitney Barnes. As he did so Helen came very close to him, laid her hand on his arm and said tremulously: "You are his best friend. Tell me honestly, don't you think I'm right in wanting to marry him?" This was a poser, but when he did summon an answer it came right out from the heart, his eyes devouring the beautiful girl before him as he spoke. "Nothing on earth would please me so much as to have you marry Travers Gladwin, and I promise you now that I am going to do everything in my power to persuade you to do it." "Oh, I am so glad!" Helen thanked him. A moment later she added with a perplexed smile: "But why did you talk about his bravery as you did?" "Well, you see"--the young man stopped. "I suppose," Helen suggested brightly, "being so very fond of him, you hated the idea of his marrying. Was that it?" "Yes, but that was before I saw you. I hope you are going to like his best friend just a little." There was no mistaking the ardent emphasis on the last sentence and Helen studied the young man's face curiously. She turned away with a blush and walked across the room. CHAPTER XVI. THE TORMENT OF OFFICER 666. Meantime Officer 666, on his aristocratic beat, four blocks up and four blocks down the Fifth avenue pave, was sticking to the east side of the street and vainly trying to keep his eyes to the front. It was excruciating duty, with the raven-haired Rose wheeling her perambulator along the opposite way and keeping, by way of feminine perversity, on a latitudinal line with the patrolling of Michael Phelan. There she was just opposite, always, never twisting her head an inch to give him so much as a glance or a smile. It made him wild that she should discipline her eyes in that fashion, while his would wander hither and yon, especially yon when Rose was in that direction.