"That girl of Amos Vick's. They ain't seen hide er hair of her sence yesterday afternoon. Amos is over to the drug store, nearly crazy with suspicion. I got it all figgered out. One of two things has happened. She's either run off to get married er else she's been waylaid and--er--execrated by some tramp. Like as not the very feller that peeped in at Alix Crown's winder the other night. 'Twouldn't surprise me a particle if she was found some'eres er other with her head beat in or somethin'! And Link Pollock jest sits in there stuffin' pan--" Margaret Slattery having disappeared abruptly into the dining-room, Jim grunted and edged over to the kitchen range, where Miss Jennie Dowd was busily engaged. "I ain't got nothin' personal ag'in Link Pollock, Jennie," he said, sniffing the browning batter with pleasurable longing, "but if you was to ask me I'd say his wife is twice the man he is, and a little over. The minute that woman is a widder I'm goin' to subscribe for the paper, 'cause I know she'll--What say, Jennie?" "Bring me another scuttle of coal,--and, for goodness' sake, don't smoke that pipe in my kitchen." "What's the matter with this here pipe?" demanded Mr. House in some surprise. "Never mind. I'm busy." "Yes,--cookin' pancakes for that--all right, ALL RIGHT, I'll get your coal fer ye. I ought to be out helpin' Amos Vick to investigate fer his daughter, that's where I ought to be. First thing you know, he'll be offerin' twenty-five er fifty dollars fer her and--say, it seems to me you ought to be more interested in that pore lost girl than makin' pancakes fer Link Pollock." He prepared to sit down. "There's a lot of people in this here town payin' him two dollars a year fer to git the news, and all he does is to--All right, I wasn't goin' to set down anyways. I was jest movin' this cheer out o' the way a little, so's Maggie--Yes, and with coal as high as it is now and a lot of pore people starvin' and freezin' to death, it exaggerates me considerable to see you wastin'--Well, is he still eatin', Maggie?" "He's beat it upstairs to change his carpet slippers," announced Margaret Slattery excitedly. "You needn't make any more, Miss Jennie. They're all beatin' it,--all except Mr. Thane, and he says he don't want any more. He says he ain't feelin' well and thinks he'll go up to his room and lay down for a while." "Well, seein's you don't need that coal, Jennie, I guess I'll mosey along and see if I c'n be any help to Amos. This jest goes to show what an ijit I'd ha' been to let my pipe go out." Courtney Thane hung over the little stove in his room, shivering as with a chill. About ten o'clock some one knocked at his door. He started up from the chair, his gaze fixed on the door. With an effort he pulled himself together and inquired who was there. "Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Thane?" asked Miss Molly Dowd, outside.