"Peuff! And when did M'sieu Thayer become _l' M'sieu Doctaire_? Ba'teese say ask him if he like you." Medaine laughed. "Do you like me?" Brown eyes met blue eyes. A smile passed between them. It was with an effort that Houston remembered that he was only playing a part. "I certainly do!" "Ask him, 'Do you like me better than anybody you ever--'" "What sense is there to all this?" "Blooey! And why should you ask? Why should you stand with a frown on your face? Peuff! It is ugly enough already!" To Barry, it was quite evident that there was some purpose behind the actions of Old Ba'tiste, and certainly more than mere pleasantry in his words. "You ask Medaine to help Ba'teese, and then _facher vous_! Enough. Ask him, Medaine." "But--" the girl was laughing now, her eyes beaming, a slight flush apparent in her cheeks--"maybe he doesn't want me to--" "Oh, but I do!" There was something in the tone of Barry Houston which made the color deepen. "I--I like it." "That's enough!" Thayer, black-featured, his gnarled hands clenched into ugly knots, came abruptly forward. "I thought this was a serious thing; I didn't know you were going to turn it into a burlesque!" "Perhaps M'sieu Thayer has studied the practice of medicine?" "No. But--" "Nor, pardon, the practice of politeness. Ba'teese will not need your help." "Whether you need it or not, I'll come back when you're through with this infernal horseplay. I--" "Ba'teese choose his guests." "You mean--" "Ba'teese mean what he say." "Very well, then. Come on, Medaine." The girl, apparently without a thought of the air of proprietorship in the man's tone, rose, only to face Ba'tiste. The Canadian glowered at her. "And are you chattel?" he stormed. "Do you stand in the cup of his hand that he shall tell you when to rise and when to sit, when to walk and where to go?" She turned. "You were abrupt, Fred. I'm glad Ba'tiste reminded me. Personally, I don't see why I should have been drawn into this at all, or why I should be made the butt of a quarrel over some one I never saw before." "I'm sorry--terribly sorry." Barry was speaking earnestly and holding forth his hand. "I shouldn't have answered you that way--I'm--" "We'll forget it all." A flashing smile had crossed the girl's lips. "Fred never knows how to take Ba'tiste. They're always quarreling this way. The only trouble is that Fred--" and she turned to face him piquantly--"always takes in the whole world when he gets mad. And that includes me. I think," and the little nose took a more upward turn than ever, "that Ba'tiste is entirely right, Fred. You talked to me as though I were a sack of potatoes. I won't go with you, and I won't see you until you can apologize." "There's nothing to apologize for!" Thayer jammed on his hat and stamped angrily out the door. Medaine watched him with laughing eyes. "He'll write me a letter to-night," came quietly. Then, "Lost Wing!"