Jeff nodded. He was feeling that he was doing something mean, even brutal. He knew that what he contemplated must result in the bitterest disappointment to his old friend. He had well enough known throughout their partnership Bud's yearning desire that he should marry Nan. Well, such a course was unthinkable now. Somehow it had never seemed really possible. He was troubled, grievously troubled, but he was determined now to act in the only honest way. He was determined that Bud should know the truth--at all costs. "I'd be thankful to you, Bud." "You don't need to say a word. It's fixed." For some moments no other word was spoken. There was awkwardness. But it was with Jeff alone. He feared the result of what he must tell. "You're--packing?" he said presently. Bud sat himself heavily into a rocker. "Yep. Lestways I don't guess Nan 'ud call it that way." He raked his curly iron-gray hair with his strong fingers, and gazed ruefully at the chaos. "Maybe I can help some." Bud shook his head, and his smile was good. "Guess one darn fool's enough playin' this game. When're you coming along to--home?" "Maybe a week." The reply was prompt. "An'--you'll bring her along with you?" The eyes of the two men met. Each was reading the other like an open book. Jeff shook his head. Somehow there was nothing absurd to him in Bud's suggestion. There was nothing startling even in the probing of his secret with so much directness. "I haven't asked her--yet." Then it was that the big heart of the friend, who was almost a father, made itself apparent. "But you're goin' to, Jeff. An' she's goin' to take you. Say, Jeff, she's one lucky woman." In a moment the tide of the younger man's feelings was set flowing. In a moment the egoism of the lover made a generous nature forget all else but the passion that absorbed him. In a moment the thought that this man was Nan's father, and that the dearest wish of his life was that he, Jeff, should marry his daughter, was forgotten. "Lucky? But you got it wrong, Bud," Jeff cried, sitting erect, his face flushed with the passionate stirring of Ills strong heart. "It's I who'll be lucky, if she don't turn me down. Man, I'm not worth the dust on her shoes. I'm not fit to lackey for her. Nor--nor is any other feller. Say, Bud," he went on, leaning impressively forward, his eyes shining with his passion, "I'm just crazy to death for her. And--and I can't just help it. I'd go through hell's flames for her, man, I'd----"