“How do you mean?”

“Well, I mean it strikes me—­quite unbiased, you know—­that you’ve let Number One overshadow the situation.  You’ve drawn it all too personal to yourself.”

“I don’t see that,” said Dale, forcibly, almost hotly.  “It’s the principle I stand for—­pretty near as much as for myself.”

“Ah, yes, just so,” said Mr. Ridgett.  “And now I’m going to ask you to help me find a bedroom somewhere handy, and put me up to knowing where I’d best get my meals;” and he laughed cheerfully.  “Don’t think I’m establishing myself—­but one may as well be comfortable, if one can.  And I do give you this tip.  You’re in for what we used to call the devil’s dance up there.  Caesar is a slow mover.  I mean, it won’t be ‘Step this way, Mr. Dale.  Walk in this minute.’  They’ll keep you on the dance.  I should take all you’re likely to want for a week—­at the least.”

Dale made arrangements for the future comfort of the visitor, and hospitably insisted that he should take his first substantial meal up-stairs.

“It’s served at seven sharp,” said Dale; “and we make it a meat tea; but you aren’t restricted to non-alcolic bev’rages.”

“Oh, tea is more than good enough for me, thank you.”

“Mavis,” said Dale, introducing his guest, “this is Mr. Ridgett, who is so kind as to honor us without ceremony.”  And, as if to demonstrate the absence of ceremony, he put his arm round his wife’s waist and kissed her.

Mr. Ridgett smiled, and opened conversation in a very pleasant easy fashion.

“From the look of things,” he said facetiously, “I hazard the guess that you two aren’t long home from the honeymoon.”

“You’re off the line there,” said Dale.  “We’re quite an old Darby and Joan.”

“Really!” And Mr. Ridgett’s smile, as he regarded Mrs. Dale, expressed admiration and surprise.  “Appearances are deceitful.  And how long may you have been running in double harness?”

“Eleven years,” said Dale.

“Never!  Any children?”

“No,” said Mrs. Dale.

“No,” said her husband.  “We haven’t been blessed that way—­not as yet.”

“I note the addition.  Not as yet!  Very neatly put.”  Mr. Ridgett laughed, and bowed gallantly to Mrs. Dale.  “Plenty of time for any amount of blessings.”

Then they all sat down to the table.

During the course of the meal, and again when it was over, they spoke of the business that lay before Dale on the morrow.

“I’ve ventured to tell your husband that perhaps he has been taking it all too seriously.”

“Oh, has he?  I’m so glad to hear you say it.”  And Mavis Dale, with her elbows on the table, leaned forward and watched the deputy’s face intently.

“Too much of the personal equation.”

“Yes?”

“What I say is, little accidents happen to all of us—­but they blow over.”

Mavis Dale drew in her breath, and her eyebrows contracted.  “Mr. Ridgett!  The way you say that, shows you really think it’s serious for him.”