"I have had an anxious day, but this makes up for everything," he said. "Now--and it is so long since I have seen you--can't we, for just a few minutes, forget our troubles?" He held out his hand, as though to lift her down, but the girl turned her eyes on him and what he saw in them checked him suddenly. "No," she said, with a tremor in her voice, "we can't get away from them. You must not ask any question until you have heard everything!" She spoke with a swift conciseness that omitted no point and made the story plain, for there was a high spirit in the girl, and a tangible peril that could be grappled with had a bracing effect on her. Grant's face grew intent as he listened, and Hetty, looking down, could see the firmer set of his lips, and the glint in his eyes. The weariness faded out of it, and once more she recognized the alert, resourceful, and quietly resolute Larry she had known before the troubles came. He turned swiftly and clasped her hand. "I wonder if you know how much you have done for me?" Hetty smiled and allowed her fingers to remain in his grasp. "Then, you have heard nothing of this?" she said. "No," said the man. "But Hetty----" Again the girl checked him with a gesture. "And I need not ask you whether you would have had a hand in it?" Grant laughed a little scornful laugh that was more eloquent than many protestations. "No," he said, "you needn't. I think you know me better than that, Hetty?" "Yes," said the girl softly. "You couldn't have had anything to do with that kind of meanness. Larry, how was it they did not tell you?" She felt the grasp of the man's fingers slacken and saw his arm fall to his side. His face changed suddenly, growing stern and set, until he turned his head away. When he looked round again the weariness was once more plain in it, and she almost fancied he had checked a groan. "You have brought me back to myself," he said. "Only a few seconds ago I could think of nothing but what you had done for me. I think I was almost as happy as a man could be, and now----" Hetty laid her hand on his shoulder. "And now? Tell me, Larry." "No," said the man. "You have plenty of troubles of your own." The grasp of the little hand grew tighter, and when Grant looked up he saw the girl smiling down on him half-shyly, and yet, as it were, imperiously. "Tell me, dear," she said. Larry felt his heart throb, and his resolution failed him. He could see the girl's eyes, and their compelling tenderness. "Well," he said, huskily, "what I have dreaded has come. The men I have given up everything for have turned against me. No, you must not think I am sorry for what I have done, and it was right then; but they have listened to some of the crazy fools from Europe and are letting loose anarchy. I and the others--the sensible Americans--have lost our hold on them, and yet it was we who brought them in. We took on too big a contract--and I'm most horribly afraid, Hetty."