“And what did he tell you?”

“Only that the occupants had moved in within a few days, and that he had seen no kids about; no one in fact but a middling old woman.”

“Did he mention any names?”

“No; I didn’t ask.  It was nothing to me.”

“I should say it was not.  So the kid told you there were no children, did he?  Well, you heard what Natalie said just now—­which are you going to believe?”

“The lady, of course,” smilingly.  “Surely this is no matter to quarrel over.”

“No, Captain West,” she broke in, leaning forward in the seat, and speaking again in the peculiar strained voice.  “The boy was merely mistaken.  He had not seen the children because they were kept closely in the house.  They were turned out of their former home, and have absolutely nothing; no furniture even; only straw to sleep on.  It was most pitiful.”

“Do not think of it any longer, Natalie,” Coolidge insisted rather gruffly.  “They are all right now.  I shall telephone for a doctor as soon as we get back, and attend to the rent the first thing tomorrow.”

“I know, Uncle, but I cannot forget so easily.  Do you know anything about poverty, Captain West?”

“Nothing very direct.  Of course, in a way I have occasionally come in contact with suffering of that nature.  I have been hungry enough in the army, but usually I have experienced little need.  I regret,” he added apologetically, “that what I said was taken as criticism.  I had no such meaning.”

“Criticism!” Coolidge turned the car around as he spoke.  “Be as free with that as you please; what I object to is your intruding at every opportunity.  It looks as though you were trying to find out something—­is that your game?”

“Not at all.  I naturally spoke to the kid, and the only topic which occurred to me at the moment concerned the people you were visiting.  I see no occasion for any misunderstanding.”

“And there is none,” she asserted cordially, her eyes meeting his own frankly.  “So let’s drop the subject, and enjoy our ride.  I am not going to have the whole day spoiled because of these people.  They are all right now.  What is that big building over there?”

Coolidge emitted some answer, but devoted his attention to running the car, his jaw set.  It was clear enough that West’s explanation was not altogether satisfactory, and his dislike for the younger man had in no way lessened.  The young woman, however, easily regained her vivacity, and devoted herself to making the ride homeward as pleasant as possible.  West found her unusually entertaining, with a deep sense of humor he had not before suspected, and an occasional lapse into slang which rather surprised him.  He had previously entertained the thought that she was rather conventional and not particularly easy to approach, but this conception vanished quickly in a free flow of conversation, to which Coolidge apparently paid small attention.  Indeed, there