"If you mean what I think you do--yes," she said, steadily. "I'd marry Ovid to-morrow." "Him bein' a thief?" "Girls that sell cigars aren't so select," she said, a trifle bitterly. "Pansy," said Scattergood, and he patted her back with a heavy hand that was, nevertheless, gentle, "if 'twan't for Mandy, that I've up and married already, I calc'late I'd try to cut Ovid out.... But then I've kinder observed that every woman you meet up with, if she's bein' crowded by somethin' hard and mean, strikes you as bein' better 'n any other woman you ever see. I call to mind a number.... Ovid some attached to you, is he?" "He's never made love to me, if that's what you mean." "Think you could land him--for his good and yourn?" "I--why, I think I could," she said. "Is it a bargain?" "What?" "For, and in consideration of one dollar to you in hand paid, and the further consideration of you undertakin' to keep an eye on him till death do you part, I agree to keep him out of jail--and without nobody knowin' he was ever anythin' but honest--and a dum fool." She held out her hand and Scattergood took it. "What's got Ovid into this here mess?" "Bucket shop," she said. "Um!... They been lettin' him make a mite of money--up to now, eh? So he calc'lated on gittin' rich at one wallop. Kind of led him along, I calc'late, till they got him to swaller hook, line, and sinker ... and then they up and jerked him floppin' on to the bank.... Who owns this here bucket shop?" "Tim Peaney." "Perty slick, is he?" "Slick enough to take care of Ovid and sheep like him--but I can't help thinking he's a sheep himself." "He got Ovid's three thousand, or Ovid 'u'd 'a' come back Sunday night.... Got to find Ovid--and got to git that money back." "I've an idea Ovid's right in town. If you're suspicious, and keep your eyes open, you can tell when something's going on. That Pillows man you scared knows, and Peaney acts like the man of mystery in one of the kind of plays we get around here. It's breaking out all over them.... I'll bet they've fleeced Ovid, and now they're hiding him--to save themselves more than him." "And Ovid's the kind that would let himself be hid," said Scattergood. "Do you and me work together on this job?" "If I can help--" "You bet you kin.... We'll jest let Ovid lie hid while we kind of maneuver around Peaney some--commencin' right soon. Peaney ever aspire to take you to dinner?" "Yes," she said, shortly. "Git organized to go with him to-night...." * * * * * It was in the neighborhood of five o'clock when Mr. Peaney came into the Mountain House and stopped at the cigar counter for cigarettes. "Any more friendly to-day, sister?" he asked. Pansy smiled and leaned across the case. "The trouble with you," she said, in a low tone, "is that you're a piker." "Piker--me?" "Always after small change." "Just show me some real money once," he said, flamboyantly. "It would scare you," she said.