“Give me the address of that Mrs. Cummings. I’m going back there and if she is half the gritty little heroine that you make her out to be, I’ll bring her home with me and see that she gets the best education that money can buy. Maybe I’ll take one or two of the other children, too.” “But ... but maybe their mother will object,” I faltered. “It won’t do her a bit of good if she does,” Mrs. Holiday replied firmly. “I always get what I go after. You know, when I saw you beside the road yesterday, I felt impelled to take you home with me. I believe in that kind of instinct—intuition—fate—call it what you will. That little Mandy will be my girl. I can teach her so much. It will be like renewing my youth. Of course, she’ll go to school in Cheyenne, too, and later to college if she likes. Oh, I’ll get her—rest assured of that. It’s mostly a question of money, anyway.” I handed over the address without another word. Yes, it would be largely a question of money with that drunken father and ignorant mother, and it would be a wonderful opportunity for Mandy. The workings of fate are marvellous to contemplate. If that old harridan of a woman had not ordered me from her house, I would not have wandered out into the country and met Mrs. Holiday. Then Mandy would not have had her chance. Thus, the harridan woman is clearly seen to be but an instrument of a benign Providence. Should she be censured for an act that results in so much good? I put the question to my companion, who laughed as I told her the story. “You were unfortunate in that you began operations in the fashionable quarter of our fair city. I know the woman you describe. She is the shining light of local clubdom, the greatest society leader here. She would be highly insulted at the idea of serving as an instrument of Fate. Why, she would not be the servant of the Almighty himself—if she can’t boss the job, she won’t play.” “It must be rather hard on the maid,” I observed. “Well, she’s notorious for the way she handles her servants. She gets these green foreigners fresh from the old country, and keeps them penned in her kitchen so long as they will endure it. They are taught to cook and wash and all that, but she pays next to nothing, and does her best to prevent their learning decent English or mingling with their kind. She is a fine person to talk of swindling ignorant foreigners. A worse exploiter of unfortunate servant girls it would be difficult to find. “But to-morrow I’ll take you into another part of town, over where the human people live, and probably you will do quite well.” She was a good prophet, for I have succeeded in clearing nearly five dollars during the last few days. It will be with keen regret that I leave my newfound friend to-morrow morning and take the road again with the California outfit. THIRTEEN