**  Who  taketh  your  plathe,  O'mie? "  Bud  asked.
"That's  the  beauty  av  it.  It's  a  lady,"  O'mie  an-
swered.
Somehow  my  heart  grew  sick.  Could  it  be  Marjie,  I
wondered.  I  knew  money  matters  were  a  problem  with
the  Whatelys,  but  I  had  hoped  for  better  fortune  through
my  father's  help.  Maybe,  though,  they  would  have  none
of  him  now  any  more  than  of  myself.  When  Marjie  and
I  were  engaged  I  did  not  care  for  her  future,  for  it  was
to  be  with  me,  and  my  burden  was  my  joy  then.  Not
that  earning  a  living  meant  any  disgrace  to  the  girl.  We
all  learned  better  than  that  early  in  the  West.
"Well,  who  be  thaid  lady?"  Bud  questioned.
"Miss  Letitia  Conlow,"  O'mie  answered  with  a  grave
face.
"Oh,  well,  don't  grieve,  O'mie;  it  might  be  worse.
Cheer  up ! "  I  said  gayly.
"It  couldn't  be,  by  George!  It  just  couldn't  be  no
worse."  O'mie  was  more  than  grave,  he  was  sad  now.
