Jim Sayre wasn't faithful to his wife. This boy is--well, he's an heir. That's why he was begotten." Margaret Wheeler stared at him. "Why, Walter!" she said. "He's a nice boy, and he's a gentleman." "Why? Because he gets up when you come into the room? Why in heaven's name don't you encourage real men to come here? There's Dick Livingstone. He's a man." Margaret hesitated. "Walter, have you ever thought there was anything queer about Dick Livingstone's coming here?" "Darned good for the town that he did come." "But--nobody ever dreamed that David and Lucy had a nephew. Then he turns up, and they send him to medical college, and all that." "I've got some relations I haven't notified the town I possess," he said grimly. "Well, there's something odd. I don't believe Henry Livingstone, the Wyoming brother, ever had a son." "What possible foundation have you for a statement like that?" "Mrs. Cook Morgan's sister-in-law has been visiting her lately. She says she knew Henry Livingstone well years ago in the West, and she never heard he was married. She says positively he was not married." "And trust the Morgan woman to spread the good news," he said with angry sarcasm. "Well, suppose that's true? Suppose Dick is an illegitimate child? That's the worst that's implied, I daresay. That's nothing against Dick himself. I'll tell the world there's good blood on the Livingstone side, anyhow." "You were very particular about Wallie Sayre's heredity, Walter." "That's different," he retorted, and retired into gloomy silence behind his newspaper. Drat these women anyhow. It was like some fool female to come there and rake up some old and defunct scandal. He'd stand up for Dick if it ever came to a show-down. He liked Dick. What the devil did his mother matter, anyhow? If this town hadn't had enough evidence of Dick Livingstone's quality the last few years he'd better go elsewhere. He--He got up and whistled for the dog. "I'm going to take a walk," he said briefly, and went out. He always
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