"That's not at all strange," said Elsie, "because there's nothing to see."

"And in Chicago, where I come from," said Grogan sagely, "there's altogether too much."

Grogan saw by his two companions' faces that he was an intruder.

"Young man," he said, "I don't think I'll wait for you. I've some letters to write at the hotel. I think I'll be strolling along."

"Why," said Harvey, hospitable in the face of intrusion, "you're welcome to ride. Won't you wait?"

"No, thanks," said Grogan, "that grocery wagon of yours wasn't built to accommodate a man of my size."

Harvey and the girl watched Grogan disappear in the dusk. Then the young man turned to the girl.

"Elsie--" he began tenderly.

But the girl stopped him. "Now don't begin to question me," she ordered.

"I won't answer."

"You are trying to hide something from me," said Harvey, grasping the girl's unwilling hand. The girl drew away from him.

"That's not true," she said. "I don't want you to bother me."

"I never used to bother you," said Harvey, his face flushing.

"That was before--" began Elsie impulsively. "I mean now," she went on, catching herself. "I mean that you do now because you have changed."

"No," contradicted Harvey, "but you have."

"What do you mean by that?" challenged the girl.

Harvey stood silent for a moment and jerked out a laugh of embarra.s.sment.

"I don't know exactly what I mean," he said, "but you know we were engaged."

Elsie flushed. "We were not," she said.

"I mean," said Harvey miserably stumbling on, "we sort of were. We understood." He brought one hand from his pocket. It held the box containing the ring. "Why, Elsie," he said pleadingly, "I even bought the ring. Just a plain band of gold. I did so hope that some day, soon perhaps, you'd let me put it on your finger and take you to our home. It wouldn't be much, but I'd love you and care for you. Why I'd work night and day just to make things easy for you. I love you. It all begins and ends with that."

Elsie stood for a moment as though this honest appeal had touched her.

Then she turned sharply.

"O, what's the use," she cried, "Look at this place. See how we live. And you--you want me to go on like this? No!"

Harvey stared at her stupidly.

"Don't stare at me like that," said the girl annoyed.

"I am wondering what has changed you so," said Harvey apologetically.

"Nothing, I tell you."

"Yes, there is something, or somebody."

"Now Harvey, please don't begin--" Elsie paused. Her glance left Harvey's face. A young man in a brown tweed suit and carrying a light walking stick in his gloved hand was coming toward the gate.

"h.e.l.lo," he said easily, addressing Elsie and ignoring Spencer, "anybody at home?"

Elsie turned toward him with impulsive friendliness, then remembering her other suitor paused and tried to a.s.sume a manner of unconcern.

"Of course, there's someone at home," she said, "can't you see there is?"

"Can't be sure that such loveliness is real," said the newcomer gallantly.

"You're talking Chicagoese," said the girl, not, however, displeased.

"Simple fact, believe me," was the a.s.sured response.

Elsie saw that Harvey was eyeing the stranger with hostility. "Do you know Mr. Spencer, Mr. Druce?"

"Everybody in Millville knows Mr. Spencer," replied Martin Druce, putting out his hand. "He's a town inst.i.tution."

"Thank you," said Harvey, mollified by what he thought a sincere compliment and shaking hands.

"Inst.i.tution!" laughed Elsie.

Harvey stopped and withdrew the hand. It dawned on him that there was a secret understanding between Druce and the girl.

"Now hold on," he asked. "Just what do you mean by that word 'inst.i.tution?'"

"Why you're one of the landmarks here," explained Druce, "the same as the bank or the opera house." He brushed the lapel of Harvey's coat with his gloved hand and straightened his collar. Then he soberly removed Harvey's straw hat, fingered it into grotesque lines and replaced it on his head.

He stepped back to observe the effect, adding satirically: "I'll bet you won't stay long in this jay town."

"You're dead right there," boasted Harvey. "Millville is all right and a rising place but--"

"I knew it," said Druce gravely. "You'll be coming up to Chicago to show Marshall Field how to run his store."

"Well, I may--" began Harvey proudly.

"Oh!" Elsie's voice was pained. "Don't do that, Mr. Druce!" Then she turned to Spencer. "Why do you let him make a joke of you?"

"Who? Me?" Harvey looked at her in astonishment. He turned to Druce savagely. "Say," he demanded, "are you trying to kid me?"

"Not on your life," was the reply. "I knew better than to try to kid a wise young man like you. What I'm trying to say is that you're too big for this town. Say, what's your ambition?"

"Oh, I've got one, Mr. Druce. I'm going to be a detective."

"Well, there's lots of room for a real one in Chicago," said Druce, suppressing a contemptuous smile.

"I may go there some day."