ay 'no.' Our little girl must go away to-morrow. I can't tell you how lonely we shall be, but we have had you so long that we were almost forgetting that you had a life of your own. We must not be selfish, so we send you off, bag and baggage." Her mother added: "Unless she oversleeps, which I am sure she will unless she goes to bed right away. It is later than I supposed. Come, Elizabeth."
As she spoke, Joe Ratowsky came across the lawn. In the moonlight, he looked like a great tawny giant. He spoke in English: "Mr. Hobart, that beeznez is no good. He no stay to-morrow. To-day homes he goes quick."
"Where is his home? Doesn't he live here?"
"Dennis O'Day, b'gosh, niver. So many as one children he have. Milton, he live."
"Why doesn't he bring his family here? I didn't know the man was married."
"Umh--yes, b'gosh. His girl tall like your girl. He no bring her. He proud like the tivil. Never he tell his girl what he do here--no, b'gosh, he don't."
"Well, come in and I wi