couldn't see who it was in the dark."

"No; I reckon not," Jim laughed.

"I've changed our plans for the evening," she
announced. "We won't go to ride tonight. I want you
to bring my best friend to dinner with us at Mouquin's.
Go after her in the car. I want to impress her----"

"I got you, Kiddo! She's goin' to look me over--
eh? All right, I'll stop at the store and get a clean
collar. I wouldn't like her to see the print of that
tiger's claw on my neck."

"There's her address the Gainsborough Studios.
Drop me at Mouquin's and I'll have the table set in one
of the small rooms upstairs. I'll meet you at the
door."

Jim glanced at the address, put it in his pocket
and helped her draw on her heavy coat.

"You'll be nice to Jane? I want her to like you.
She's the only real friend I've ever had in New York."

"I'll do my best for you, little girl," he
promised.

He dropped her at the wooden cottage-front on Sixth
Avenue near Twenty-eighth Street, and returned in