"Both. Mr. O'Neil for putting me in the position of a traitor, and Drake for presuming to rewrite my stuff. I'm going to resign, and I'm going to leave Omar before Murray O'Neil comes back." "Don't be a quitter, Sis. If you throw up the job the paper will send somebody who will lie about us to suit the policy of the office. Show 'em where they're wrong; show 'em what this country needs. You have your magazine stories to write." Eliza shook her head. "Bother the magazines and the whole business! I'm thinking about Mr. O'Neil. I--I could cry. I suppose I'll have to stay and explain to him, but--then I'll go home." "No! You'll stay right here and go through with this thing. I need you." "You? What for?" "You can perform a great and a signal service for your loving brother. He's in terrible trouble!" "What's wrong, Danny?" Eliza's anger gave instant place to solicitude. "You--you haven't STOLEN anything?" "Lord, no! What put that into your head?" "I don't know--except that's the worst thing that could happen to us. I like to start with the worst." "I can't sulk in the jungle any more. I'm a rotten loser, Sis." "Oh! You mean--Natalie? You--like her?" "For a writer you select the most foolish words! Like, love, adore, worship--words are no good, anyway. I'm dippy; I'm out of my head; I've lost my reason. I'm deliriously happy and miserably unhappy. I--" "That's enough!" the girl exclaimed. "I can imagine the rest." "It was a fatal mistake for her to come to Omar, and to this very house, of all places, where I could see her every day. I might have recovered from the first jolt if I'd never seen her again, but--" He waved his hands hopelessly. "I'm beginning to hate O'Neil." "You miserable traitor!" gasped Eliza. "Yep! That's me! I'm dead to loyalty, lost to the claims of friendship. I've fought myself until I'm black in the face, but--it's no use. I must have Natalie!" "She's crazy about O'Neil." "Seems to be, for a fact, but that doesn't alter my fix. I can't live this way. You must help me or I'll lose my reason." "Nonsense! You haven't any or you wouldn't talk like this. What can I do?" "It's simple! Be nice to Murray and--and win him away from her." Eliza stared at him as though she really believed him daft. Then she said, mockingly: "Is that all? Just make him love me?" Dan nodded. "That would be fine, if you could manage it." "Why--you--you--I--" She gasped uncertainly for terms in which to voice her indignant surprise. "Idiot!" she finally exclaimed. "Thanks for such glowing praise," Dan said, forlornly. "I feel a lot worse than an idiot. An idiot is not necessarily evil; at heart he may be likable, and pathetic, and merely unfortunate--" "You simply can't be in earnest!" "I am, though!" He turned upon her eyes which had grown suddenly old and weary with longing. "You poor, foolish boy! In the first place, Mr. O'Neil will hate me for this story. In the second place, no man would look at me. I'm ugly--"