“He told you! Did he tell you all I told him?” “I--I think so. He told me who you were; what your real name was.” “He did! And you were still willing to meet me!” “Yes. Why not? Does it make any difference that you are Mr. Bennett--instead of Mr. Paine?” “But my father was Carleton Bennett--the--the--You must have heard of him.” “I never knew your father. I do know his son. And I am very proud to know him.” “But--but, Miss Colton.” “Tell me,” she interrupted, quickly, “have you seen Mr. Taylor? He is here in Denboro.” “Yes. I have seen him.” “And he told you about the Lane? That he has bought it?” “Yes.” “And you will not be,” with a smile, “driven from Denboro by that cross old Captain Dean?” “I shall not be driven--no.” “Then Mr. Taylor did help you. He promised me he would.” “He promised you? When? When did you see George Taylor?” She appeared confused. “I--I--Of course I saw him at the house this noon, when he came to see Father.” “But he could not have promised you then. He had helped me already. Did you see him before that?” “Why, how could I? I--” “Miss Colton, answer me. Was it you that met him at the Ostable station this morning? Was it?” She was as red as the reddest of the autumn leaves. She laughed, confusedly. “I did meet him there,” she confessed. “That queer Mr. Cahoon, the station agent, told me that Captain Dean had telegraphed him to come. I knew he would probably be on that train. And Mr. Cahoon told me about his being interested in stocks and very much troubled. You had told me, or as much as told me, that you sold the land to get money to help some one. I put two and two together and I guessed the rest. I met him and Nellie and we rode to Denboro together in our auto. He promised me that he would make everything right for you. I am so glad he did!” I caught my breath with a gasp. “You did that!” I exclaimed. “You did that, for me!” “Why not? Surely you had done enough for--us. I could not let you be 'driven from town', you know.” I did not speak. I knew that I must not attempt a reply. I should say too much. She looked up at me, and then down again at the pine-needles beneath our feet. “Father says he intends to do great things for you,” she went on. “He says you are to come with him. He is enthusiastic about it. He believes you are a great man. No one but a great man, he says, could beat the Consolidated Pacific gang single-handed. He says you will be the best investment he ever made.” “I am afraid not,” I answered. “Your father made me a generous offer. I wish I might have been able to accept it, but I could not.” “Oh, but you are going to accept.” “No, I am not.” “He says you are. And he always has his way, you know.” “Not in this case, Miss Colton.” “But _I_ want you to accept. Surely you will do it to oblige me.” “I--I can't.” “What are you going to do; go back to the bank?”