"There's nothing to tell--that is--"

"Well, never mind then. Just cry it out. That's right. Don't mind me.
Just your old Dad." And with much fussing and petting and foolish
assurances that he was her Daddy, he got her over to the sofa. Sitting
on the floor with her arms across his knees, she wept with the
abandonment of a child, while his short, stubby fingers tenderly
stroked her shining hair. At last when the storm had subsided and she
was able to look up, he took her face between his hands.

"Out with it, kitten!" he demanded. "What's troubling you? Don Morley
business?"

She kissed his nearest hand.

"Thought so. You--you got to like him pretty well, eh?"

She nodded between her sobs.

"Better 'n most anybody?" he asked it jealously, but unflinchingly.

"Except you, Daddy." It was a faint whisper, but it was reassuring.

"And what about him?" the Colonel continued.

Another burst of tears, then a resolute effort at self-control.

"He meant to do what's right. I know he did! He promised to give up
drinking and gambling and go to work."