"Why, Marty Day!" cried Janice, laughing. "A great big boy like you! I thought you abhorred such 'girlie' ways." "Sometimes I do," he said, approaching her boldly. "But to-night----" He seized her like a young bear and kissed her fiercely. "You're--you're a mighty nice girl, Janice, if you _are_ only my cousin," he said, averting his eyes. She laughed and patted his cheek lightly. Then carrying the lighted candle she went up to bed with a parting nod and smile to her uncle and aunt. Marty stood close to the stair door and listened at the crack till he was sure she had entered her own room and closed her door. His mother asked wonderingly: "What ever is the matter o' you, Marty Day? I never see your beat." "Sh!" the boy said, his face suddenly displaying all the fear and anxiety he had been hiding. His father took his bedtime pipe from his lips and stared. "What ever is it's got you?" he asked. The boy leaned over the table. Like conspirators, with their heads close together, the three talked in whispers. After Aunt Almira's first involuntary cry of horror, which she smothered at once, their voices never reached a key that could have made them audible ten feet away. Meanwhile the schoolmaster and Walky Dexter were in close consultation. Nelson had made no mistake when he took the expressman into the plot. Walky was by nature a chatterer and a gossip, but he would have cut off his right hand rather than hurt Janice Day. While Janice made ready for bed plans were forming to hide from her as long as possible--until the newspaper story could be verified at least--that which had come over the telegraph wires from Mexico. The girl was less troubled by fears for her father's safety than she had been for a long time. It was of Uncle Jason's trouble she thought. And she was quite sure her father would be able to help his brother considerably in straightening out the difficulty that confronted Jason Day. It had been figured out just what it would cost to renew the notes and pay interest on them, if the bank would allow Mr. Day to do that. Over seven hundred dollars per year! An enormous sum for Uncle Jason to contemplate--while the principal would hang over him like a threatening cloud. The interest money alone was more than he could easily earn over and above the family's living expenses. He had got into the toils of the cunning Hotchkiss through lending the storekeeper a small sum at eight per cent, in the beginning and being paid promptly. The bank carried the notes for six per cent, of course.