“Now, just let me talk a minute, Mrs. Gallito,” leaning forward and speaking in his most persuasive manner.  “This whole thing is a misunderstanding, that’s all.  Pearl didn’t understand what I was trying to say to her, and she lost her temper and wouldn’t let me finish.  Now taking all the blame to myself for everything, admitting that I haven’t acted right in any particular, still I haven’t had a square deal.  You’ve got the sand and the fairness to admit that, Mrs. Gallito, and I may say in passing that you’re the only one that has, and you’ve got to admit that I haven’t had a square deal; not from the Pearl, God bless her, and certainly not from her Pop and that Flick,” his eyes flashed viciously.

Mrs. Gallito filled up his waiting pause with a murmur of confused but sympathetic assent.

“I’m telling you now what I’d told them if they’d given me a chance, and it’s this,” emphasizing his words by striking the palm of one hand with the forefinger of the other, “I’m going back to Los Angeles and I’m going to move heaven and earth to get free; but in the meantime, Mrs. Gallito, I got to hear from her, I’ve got to keep in touch with her, and I believe you’ve got too much heart and too much common sense not to help me.”

She drew back with feeble, inarticulate murmurs of fright and protest.  “I wouldn’t dare,” she began.

“Wait a moment,” said Hanson soothingly.  “I’m not suggesting anything that could get you into trouble.  Mercy, no!  All I want you to do is this, just write me now and then and let me know how things are going, and maybe, once in a while, slip a letter of mine in one of yours to Pearl; but,” as she gasped a little and opened her eyes widely, “not till you’re sure it’s quite safe.”

“Well,” she agreed, still in evident perturbation of mind, “maybe—­”

“Oh, Mrs. Gallito,” pleadingly, “can’t you see that me and Pearl are born for one another?  You know that she can’t live away from the footlights.  She just can’t.  And you know that I can put her where she belongs.  You know that our hearts are better guides than all Bob Flick and her Pop can plan for her.”

His efforts were not wasted.  As he had foreseen, his arguments were of a nature to appeal to Mrs. Gallito, and it required only a little more persuasion to win her promise of assistance.  He further flattered her self-esteem by interlarding his profuse thanks with vague hints of the extreme lengths to which his despair might have led him had it not been for the saving power of her sympathy and understanding.

He had already risen and was halfway to the door before he appeared to remember something.  “Oh,” halting, his hand on the latch, “where is that—­that Jose?  Pearl could not go up there with him about.”

Mrs. Gallito, all timorousness again, beat her hands lightly together, in a distressful flurry.  “No, he’s there,” she whispered, and glanced anxiously about her.  Then she came nearer.  “I heard Gallito and Bob talking about him only yesterday and Bob said there was some mischief brewing among Jose’s pals down on the coast, and Gallito said, yes, and if he let Jose leave the mountain he’d be right back there again and in the thick of it and sure to be taken and that he, Gallito, meant to keep Jose in Colina all year, if necessary.”