Part 6 (2/2)

”I don't see why being engaged to a man you don't care about need bother you at all,” he ran on. ”It's the caring that seems to make the trouble--whether you 're engaged or not. I suppose that's what ails Teddy.”

She had been watching Monte's eyes; but she turned away for a second.

”Of course,” he continued, ”you can care--without caring too much.

Can't people care in just a friendly sort of way?”

”I should think so, Monte,” she answered.

”Then why can't people become engaged--in just a friendly sort of way?”

”It would n't mean very much, would it?”

”Just enough,” he said.

He held out his hand.

”Is it a bargain?”

She searched his eyes. They were clean and blue.

”It's so absurd, Monte!” she gasped.

”You can call me, to yourself, your secretary,” he suggested.

”No--not that.”

”Then,” he said, ”call me just a _camarade de voyage_.”

Her eyes warmed a trifle.

”I'll keep on calling you just Monte,” she whispered.

And she gave him her hand.

CHAPTER V

PISTOLS

Evidently young Hamilton did not hear Monte come down the stairs, for he was sitting in a chair near the window, with his head in his hands, and did not move even when Monte entered the room.

”h.e.l.lo, Hamilton,” said Covington.

Hamilton sprang to his feet--a shaking, ghastly remnant of a man. He had grown thinner and paler than when Covington last saw him. But his eyes--they held Covington for a moment. They burned in their hollow sockets like two candles in a dark room.

”Covington!” gasped the man.

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