"Er--er--y-yes, very likely," he stammered, a sudden vision coming to him of Helen as he had seen her on the floor in the midst of the inky chaos a short time before. "You're not the only one that isn't finding the present state of affairs a--a bed of roses, Burke," said John Denby then. "Er--ah--n-no," muttered the amazed husband. In his ears now rang Helen's--"Maybe you think I ain't tired of working and pinching and slaving!" Involuntarily he shivered and glanced at his father--dad could not, of course, have _heard_! "I have a plan to propose," announced John Denby quietly, after a moment's silence. "As I said, I think Helen needs a rest--and a change. I've seen quite a little of her since the baby came, you know, and I've noticed--many things. I will send her a check for ten thousand dollars to-morrow if she will take the baby and go away for a time--say, to her old home for a visit. But there is one other condition," he continued, lifting a quick hand to silence Burke's excited interruption. "I need a rest and change myself. I should like to go to Alaska again; and I'd like to have you go with me. Will you go?" Burke sprang to his feet and began to pace up and down the wide veranda. (From boyhood Burke had always "thrashed things out" on his feet.) For a full minute now he said nothing. Then, abruptly, he stopped and wheeled about. His face was very white. "Dad, I can't. It seems too much like--like--" "No, it isn't in the least like quitting, or running away," supplied John Denby, reading unerringly his son's hesitation. "You're not quitting at all. I'm asking you to go. Indeed, I'm begging you to go, Burke. I want you. I need you. I'm not an old man, I know; but I feel like one. These last two years have not been--er--a bed of roses for me, either." In spite of a certain lightness in his words, the man's voice shook a little. "I don't think you know, boy, how your old dad has--missed you." "Don't I? I can--guess." Burke wheeled and resumed his nervous stride. The words, as he flung them out, were at once a challenge and an admission. "But--Helen--" He stopped short, waiting. "I've answered that. I've told you. Helen needs a rest and a change." Again to the distraught husband's ears came the echo of a woman's wailing--"Maybe you think I ain't tired of working and pinching and slaving--" "Then you don't think Helen will feel that I'm running away?" A growing hope was in his eyes, but his brow still carried its frown of doubt. "Not if she has a check for--ten thousand dollars," replied John Denby, a bit grimly. Burke winced. A painful red reached his forehead. "It is, indeed, a large sum, sir,--too large," he resented, with sudden stiffness. "Thank you; but I'm afraid we can't accept it, after all." John Denby saw his mistake at once; but he did not make the second mistake of showing it.