"We'll go and have dinner somewhere. You haven't begun to explain things yet." Betty shook her head with a smile. "I haven't got time to go out to dinners," she said. "I'm a working-girl. I'm cashier at Fontelli's Italian Restaurant. I shall be on duty in another half-hour." John was aghast. "You!" "It's a very good situation," said Betty demurely. "Six dollars a week and what I steal. I haven't stolen anything yet, and I think Mr. Jarvis is a little disappointed in me. But of course I haven't settled down properly." "Jarvis? Bat Jarvis?" "Yes. He has been very good to me. He got me this place, and has looked after me all the time." "I'll buy him a thousand cats," said John fervently. "But, Betty, you mustn't go there any more. You must quit. You--" "If _Peaceful Moments_ would reengage me?" said Betty. She spoke lightly, but her face was serious. "Dear," she said quickly, "I can't be away from you now, while there's danger. I couldn't bear it. Will you let me come?" He hesitated. "You will. You must." Her manner changed again. "That's settled, then. Pugsy, I'm coming back to the paper. Are you glad?" "Sure t'ing," said Pugsy. "You're to de good." "And now," she went on, "I must give these babies back to their mothers, and then I'll come with you." She lowered herself through the trap, and John handed the children down to her. Pugsy looked on, smoking a thoughtful cigarette. John drew a deep breath. Pugsy, removing the cigarette from his mouth, delivered himself of a stately word of praise. "She's a boid," he said. "Pugsy," said John, feeling in his pocket, and producing a roll of bills, "a dollar a word is our rate for contributions like that." * * * * * John pushed back his chair slightly, stretched out his legs, and lighted a cigarette, watching Betty fondly through the smoke. The resources of the Knickerbocker Hotel had proved equal to supplying the staff of _Peaceful Moments_ with an excellent dinner, and John had stoutly declined to give or listen to any explanations until the coffee arrived. "Thousands of promising careers," he said, "have been ruined by the fatal practise of talking seriously at dinner. But now we might begin." Betty looked at him across the table with shining eyes. It was good to be together again. "My explanations won't take long," she said. "I ran away from you. And, when you found me, I ran away again." "But I didn't find you," objected John. "That was my trouble." "But my aunt told you I was at _Peaceful Moments_!" "On the contrary, I didn't even know you had an aunt." "Well, she's not exactly that. She's my stepfather's aunt--Mrs. Oakley. I was certain you had gone straight to her, and that she had told you where I was." "The Mrs. Oakley? The--er--philanthropist?" "Don't laugh at her," said Betty quickly. "She was so good to me!" "She passes," said John decidedly. "And now," said Betty, "it's your turn." John lighted another cigarette.