me a chance at him!”

“Doris!” bellowed Wilkins. “You get me that stuff to eat!”

“Don’t do it unless you want to see him drive me out!” exclaimed Trumbull.

For a tense moment she seemed to hesitate; then Doris sank into her chair with a toss of her head and a little spot of color in each cheek. “It’s about time I had something to say for myself!” she cried. “I’ll feed both of you when you promise not to quarrel any more!”

Johnny Trumbull grinned at his enemy. The face of Wilkins became troubled. He leaned forward and spoke pleadingly to his sister.

“You know my stomach is used to having something every night just about this time,” he said. “You never acted this way before.”

“Put up that gun, then, and be friends with Mr. Trumbull!”

There was a quality in the voice of Doris Wilkins which was final. Trumbull guessed that her brother had never heard it before, for now his lower jaw sagged a trifle as he stared at her. His finger did not waver upon the trigger of the shotgun, but small beads of perspiration showed upon his forehead, and the end of a pale tongue ran around his lips. He was touched in his weakest spot.

“Trumbull,” he said huskily, “there’s trouble here, and I want you should go. I’ll⸺I’ll even pay you to go!”

“Money couldn’t hire me to leave!” Trumbull chuckled.

Wilkins rediscovered his courage. He swept them both with a baleful look. “All right! I’ll starve to-night, but when I settle with you, Trumbull, it’s going to be terrible!”

Trumbull drew inspiration from his success. He turned carefully so that his movement might not be misinterpreted and smiled at Doris. “If you handed me a doughnut and a piece of cheese I guess I could eat without getting shot.”

The small feet of Doris tripped into the pantry, and a moment later Trumbull was munching slowly before the yearning gaze of Wilkins. He ate his doughnut to the last crumb.

“That’s another debt you’ve got to pay!” muttered Wilkins.

 IV 

IV

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