“This isn’t a good job for you; there isn’t enough to do. You say”---- He hesitated. Many questions as to Jean Morley thronged through his mind; but the girl was a guest in his house; he could not seek information about her from a servant. Joe, as though divining his thoughts, straightened himself suddenly. “She’s a fine girl; there ain’t a finer in the world. She ain’t like me--she’s smart, she’s got ambition and she’ll make good. You don’t need to think because I followed her that I meant any harm to her. I’m watching her; I’m looking after her. If any man means any harm to her I’ll kill him; yes, by God!” “Don’t be a fool; you seem to be the only person that’s trying to injure her,” replied Wayne coldly. “Just another such performance as that of this afternoon and you’ll give her friends cause for wonder.” Wayne had spoken quietly, for Joe was utterly unlike himself. He was either ill or drunk and Joe’s record for sobriety was flawless. The chauffeur rose now and pointed an accusing finger at Wayne, crying out huskily: “I want to know why _you’re_ takin’ so much interest in her! I’d like to know what she is to you! She’s not for you rich chaps that think you can get any poor girl you want with money! I tell you, Mr. Wayne Craighill, you can’t have her. If I can’t have her, nobody can. Now, you remember that; remember it or it’ll be the worse for you!” “Shut up, you fool,” cried Wayne, closing the door. “You needn’t shout to the whole town. Now, I’m done with you; I want you to clear out; I don’t want to find you on the place to-morrow.” “What you’re doing,” cried Joe, not heeding, but intent upon some train of thought of his own--“what you’re all doing is to try to jolly that girl so she’ll keep old man Gregory off of you. I know about that business--how the Colonel swindled him and lied to him. And now it’s your sister, and now it’s you and the Colonel’s wife that’s trying to fool her. It’s rotten, it’s rotten, the way you’ve all of you treated the old man.” Wayne sat down on the single chair in the room. He was quite calm, for it was clear that Joe was really ill; the fever shone in his eyes and his voice was hoarse and strained. But there was something here that required explanation. “Sit down, Joe, and stop shouting. You seem to be about half out of your head. Now what has Miss Morley to do with old man Gregory and how do you come to know him and his affairs?” “How do I come to know?” Joe, huddled on the edge of the bed, stared stupidly.