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Barbara Harding stepped forward. Her eyes were blazing.

How dare you?" she cried, attempting to seize the telephone from Billy's grasp.

He turned his huge frame between her and the instrument. "Git a move!" he

shouted into the mouthpiece. "Good-bye!" and he hung up.

Then he turned back toward the angry girl.

Look here," he said. "Once youse was strong on de sob stuff wit me, tellin' me

how noble I was, an' all de different tings youse would do fer me to repay all I

done fer youse. Now youse got de chanct."

What do you mean?" asked the girl, puzzled. "What can I do for you?"

"Youse kin do dis fer me. When Mallory gits here youse kin tell him dat de

engagement is all on again--see!"

In the wide eyes of the girl Billy read a deeper hurt than he had dreamed of. He

had thought that it would not be difficult for her to turn back from the vulgar

mucker to the polished gentleman. And when he saw that she was suffering, and

guessed that it was because he had tried to crush her love by brute force he could

carry the game no further.

"O Barbara," he cried, "can't you see that Mallory is your kind--that HE is a fit

mate for you. I have learned since I came into this house a few minutes ago the

unbridgeable chasm that stretches between Billy Byrne, the mucker, and such as

you. Once I aspired; but now I know just as you must have always known, that a

single lifetime is far too short for a man to cover the distance from Grand Avenue

to Riverside Drive.

"I want you to be happy, Barbara, just as I intend to be. Back there in Chicago

there are plenty of girls on Grand Avenue as straight and clean and fine as they

make 'em on Riverside Drive. Girls of my own kind, they are, and I'm going back

there to find the one that God intended for me. You've taught me what a good girl

can do toward making a man of a beast. You've taught me pride and self-respect.

You've taught me so much that I'd rather that I'd died back there beneath the

spears of Oda Iseka's warriors than live here beneath the sneers and contempt of

servants, and the pity and condescension of your friends.

"I want you to be happy, Barbara, and so I want you to promise me that you'll

marry Billy Mallory. There isn't any man on earth quite good enough for you; but

Mallory comes nearer to it than anyone I know. I've heard 'em talking about him

around town since I came back--and there isn't a rotten story chalked up against

147

The Mucker