Herring, Beemer, & Chadwick.
It happened, oddly enough, that I had two or three uncashed checks in
my pocket; so, feeling like a millionaire, I broached the subject to
him.
"What's the matter, old fellow?" I said. "You seem in a blue funk.
Has the mint stopped? If it has, command me. I'm overburdened with
checks this week."
"Not at all; thanks just the same," he said, wearily. "My Tiffin
royalties came in Wednesday, and I'm all right for a while, anyhow."
"What's up, then, Stuart?" I asked. "You look worried. I've just
offered to share my prosperity with you, you might share your grief
with me. Lend me a peck of trouble overnight, will you?"
"Oh, it's nothing much," he said. "It's that rebellious heroine of
mine. She's weighing on my mind, that's all. She's very real to me,
that woman; and, by Jove! I've been as jealous as a lover for two
days over a fancy that came into my head. You'll laugh when I tell
you, but I've been half afraid somebody else would take her up and--
well, treat her badly. There is something that tells me that she has
been forced into some brutal situation by somebody, somewhere, within
the past two or three days.
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