"You--er--you're tryin' to court Josie Lockwood, ain't you?" "Oh!" said Nat. "So that was it! That's a secret, Tracey," he averred. "All right. Only, if you are, she's your'n." "Just how do you figure that out?" "Oh, I kin tell. She was in here to-night with Roland." "To-night?" "Yes, just afore you come home from prayer-meetin'. She was lookin' for you, and when she seen you wasn't here, she wouldn't wait for no soda nor nothin'. Said she had a headache an' was goin' home. Roland went with her, but she didn't want him to. You just missed seein' her." "Heavens, what a blow!" "But Roland's takin' her home needn't upset you none." "Thank you for those kind words, Tracey." Nat sighed and passed a troubled hand across his brow. "You're a true friend." "I'm tryin' to be, Nat, same's you are to me." Tracey thought this over. "But you ain't foolin' me, are you?" he asked presently. "I mean 'bout bein' a true friend?" "Why should I?" "Ah, I dunno. You're so cur'us, sometimes. I ain't never sure whether you mean what you're sayin' or not." "Oh, don't say that." "Well, I ain't the only one. Everybody in town says they don't understand you, half the time." Duncan left his counter and moved over to that at which Tracey was occupied. His face was entirely serious, his manner deeply sympathetic. "Tracey," he said, dropping a hand on the boy's shoulder, "do you know, nothing in life is harder to bear than not to be understood?" Tracey wrestled with this for a moment, but it was beyond him. "Then why the hell don't you talk so's folks'll know what it's about?" he demanded heatedly. "Because... _Hm_." Duncan hesitated, with his enigmatic smile. "Well, because the rules don't require it." "What d'you mean by _that_?" Tracey exploded. Nat couldn't explain, so he countered neatly. "This is one of your Angie... evenings, isn't it, Tracey?" "Yep, but--" "Well, you hurry along. I'll close up the shop." Tracey had slammed on his hat and was struggling into his overcoat almost as soon as the words were out of Nat's mouth. "Kin I?" he cried excitedly. "Yes," said Nat, watching the boy turn up his collar and button his overcoat to the throat, "I haven't got the heart to keep you." "Ah, thanks, Mr. Duncan." "But, Tracey..." The boy paused at the door. "What?" "Remember what I told you. Don't you make too much love. Let Angie do that." "Gosh, that'll be the hardest rule of all for me!" A shadow clouded Tracey's honest eyes. "But I got to do it that way, anyway. I can't ask her to marry me yit. I can't afford to get married." "It's a contrary world, Tracey, a contrary world!" sighed Nat in a tone of deepest melancholy. "What makes you say that? You kin git married's soon's you want to." "You think so, Tracey?" "All you got to do's ask Josie--" "I'm almost afraid you're right." "Why? Don't you want to git married?" "Well"--Nat smiled--"no. Don't believe I do. Not just now, at any rate."