destiny to the touch and know happiness or--hell!''

``Bah!'' thought Otto. ``He has to hurry matters--he must be in
trouble. He's got to raise the wind at once.''

``Mr. Feuerstein--Carl!'' pleaded Hilda. ``PLEASE try to be
practical.'' She went up to him, and Otto turned away, unable to
bear the sight of that look of love, tenderness and trust. ``You
must not--at least, not right away.'' She turned to Otto.
``Help me, Otto. Explain to him.''

Heilig tried to put courtesy in his voice as he said to Mr.
Feuerstein: ``Miss Brauner is right. You'll only wreck her--her
happiness. We're plain people down here and don't understand
these fine, grand ways. You must pass as my friend whom I
brought here--but I make one condition.'' He drew a long breath
and looked at Hilda. For the first time she heard him, the real
Otto Heilig, speak. ``Hilda,'' he went on, ``I don't want to
hurt you-- I'd do anything for you, except hurt you. And I can't
stand for this fel--for Mr. Feuerstein, unless you'll promise me
you won't marry him, no matter what he may say, until your father
has had a chance to find out who and what he is.''

Mr. Feuerstein drew himself up grandly. ``Who is this person,
Miss Brauner?'' he demanded with haughty coldness.

``He don't know any better,'' she replied hurriedly. ``He's an
old friend. Trust me, Mr. Feuer--Carl! Everything depends on
it.''