“Mrs. Anderson, this visit is without any invitation from Julia.  I did wrong to enter your house in this way, but I only am responsible, and I meant to enter Jonas’s room.  I did not know that Julia occupied this room.  I am to blame, she is not.”

“And what did you break in for if you didn’t mean to steal?  It is all off between you and Jule, for I saw your letter.  I shall have you arrested to-morrow for burglary.  And I think you ought to be searched.  Mr. Humphreys, won’t you put him out?”

Humphreys stopped forward toward August, but he noticed that the latter had a hard look in his eyes, and had two stout German fists shut very tight.  He turned back.

“These thieves are nearly always armed.  I think I had best get a pistol out of my trunk.”

“I have no arms, and you know it, coward,” said August.  “I will not be put out by anybody, but I will go out whenever the master of this house asks me to go out, and the rest of you open a free path.”

[Illustration:  “GOOD-BY!”]

“Jonas, put him out!” screamed Mrs. Anderson.

“Couldn’t do it,” said Jonas, “couldn’t do it ef I tried.  They’s too much bone and sinnoo in them arms of his’n, and moreover he’s a gentleman.  I axed him to come and see me sometime, and he come.  He come ruther late it’s true, but I s’pose he thought that sence we got sech a dee-splay of watch-seals and straps we had all got so stuck up, we wouldn’t receive calls afore fashionable hours.  Any way, I ’low he didn’t mean no harm, and he’s my visitor, seein’ he meant to come into my winder, knowin’ the door was closed agin him.  And he won’t let no man put him out, ’thout he’s a man with more’n half a dozen watch-seals onto him, to give him weight and influence.”

“Samuel, will you see me insulted in this way?  Will you put this burglar out of the house?”

The “head of the house,” thus appealed to, tried to look important; he tried to swell up his size and his courage.  But he did not dare touch August.

“Mr. Anderson, I beg your pardon.  I had no right to come In as I did.  I had no right so to enter a gentleman’s house.  If I had not known that this cowardly fop—­I don’t know what else he may be—­was injuring me by his lies I should not have come in.  If it is a crime to love a young lady, then I have committed a crime.  You have only to exercise your authority as master of this house and ask me to go.”

“I do ask you to go, Mr. Wehle.”

It was the first time that Samuel Anderson had ever called him Mr. Wehle.  It was an involuntary tribute to the dignity of the young man, as he stood at bay.  “Mr. Wehle, indeed!” said Mrs. Anderson.