"Look here, Mr. Inches," she said, with decision; "seeing you want the stock so bad, I guess I'll hold on to it!" She was still holding on with unwavering persistence when, a few days after that, Dayton came into the shop. He wondered, as he entered the door, what could be the unpleasant association that was aroused in him by the familiar atmosphere of skins and dried flowers and general "stock in trade" which pervaded the place. No sooner did his eye fall upon Marietta coming towards him, however, than he recalled the distasteful part of adviser which had been forced upon him on the occasion of his last visit. He tried to think that he had washed his hands of the whole matter, but, "Mrs. Jim," he found himself saying; "did you go into mines the other day?" "Yes." "What did you buy?" "H. O. P." "What did you pay?" "Twenty cents." "Sold yet?" "No." Dayton took the little parcel she was handing him. He had come in for a lead-pencil and had bought, in addition, a stamp-box, a buttonhook, and a plated silver photograph frame, not one of which newly acquired treasures he had the slightest use for. They were very neatly tied up, however. He wished Mrs. Jim would stick to her legitimate business which she did uncommonly well. "I think I would sell out my 'H. O. P.' if I were you," he said. "Isn't it going any higher?" she asked. "Very likely; but it's a swindle." "What do you mean?" "Well, I mean that the management's bad, and they don't know the first thing about what they've got, any way. Honestly, Mrs. Jim, it isn't safe to hold." Marietta's heart sank; if she sold her stock what was to become of the little house with the two windows in the sitting-room? She did not reply, and Dayton went on: "Of course," he said; "I can't tell that the thing won't go to a dollar, but there is really no basis for it. I've sold out every share I held, and I don't regret it, though it has gone up ten points since then." Marietta regarded him attentively. There was no mistaking his sincerity,--and he probably knew what he was talking about. "Well," she said at last, with a profound sigh; "I guess I'll do as you say. It worked pretty well the other time." "That's right, Mrs. Jim, and supposing you let me have your stock. I can probably get you fifty cents for it in the course of the day." She took the certificate from a drawer close at hand, and having signed it, she gave one lingering farewell look at the green lady and her golden horn. "I may as well write a check for the amount now," Dayton said. "But maybe you can't get it." "More likely to get a little over. If I do I'll bring it in." Dayton looked into her face as he spoke, and its beauty struck him as pathetic. There were lines and shadows there which he had not noticed before. "I wish, Mrs. Jim," he said, "that you wouldn't do anything more in mines; it's an awfully risky business at the best. There isn't one of us that knows the first thing about it."