Rose's eyes flashed and her lips drew taut. She started forward, but turned her head to face Phelan as she walked away. "I'll give you an answer, Michael," she said in parting, "when ye may set up your own home for your own"---- That was all Phelan heard and possibly all that the young woman uttered, for just then Master Croesus set up a bawl that was most common and vulgar in its utter lack of restraint. There could be no more to the interview that day with young Master Croesus in such vociferous mood, so Officer 666 turned away with a heaving sigh and plodded dolefully along on his beat. CHAPTER XVII. TRAVERS GLADWIN IS CONSIDERABLY JARRED. Taking time out to sense the bruised condition of your heart isn't a whole lot different from taking time out to recover from a jolt received in the prize ring. Having released that impassioned sentence, "I hope you are going to like his best friend just a little!" young Mr. Gladwin felt a trifle groggy. Until he had spoken he hadn't realized just how badly his cardiac equipment was being shot to pieces by the naked god's ruthless archery. The fact that the case should have appeared hopeless only fanned the flame of his ardor. He had looked into the depths of two vividly blue eyes and there read his destiny. So he told himself fiercely; whereupon, in the Rooseveltian phrase, he cast his hat into the ring. He cared no more for obstacles than a runaway horse. His very boredom of the past few years had stored up vast reserves of energy within him, waiting only for that psychological thrill to light the fuse. As Helen Burton turned from him with the uncomfortable feeling of one who has received a vague danger signal he paused only a moment before he again strode to her side. He was about to speak when she took the lead from him and, looking up at one of the masterpieces on the wall, said: "Oh, this is his wonderful collection of paintings! He told me all about them." It was what the gentlemen pugilists would call a cross-counter impinging upon the supersensitive maxillary muscles. It certainly jarred the owner of that wonderful collection and caused him to turn with an expression of astonishment to Whitney Barnes. But that young man was intensely occupied in a vain endeavor to draw more than a monosyllable from the shrinking Sadie Burton. He missed the look and went doggedly ahead with his own task. Helen Burton repeated her remark that he had told her all about his paintings. "Oh, has he?" responded Gladwin, dully. "Yes, and they are worth a fortune!" cried the girl. "He simply adores pictures." "Yes, doesn't he, though?" assented the young man in the same vacuous tones. "And we are going to take the most valuable away with us to-night!" Here was information to jar Jove on high Olympus. Travers Gladwin came stark awake with a new and vital interest. There was glowing life in his voice as he said: "So you are going to take the pictures with you on your honeymoon?"