monia himself, for Margaret was not in the house. She stood in the shadow beneath a maple tree near the street corner, a guitar-case in her hand; and she scanned with anxiety a briskly approaching figure. The arc light, swinging above, revealed this figure as that of him she awaited. He was passing toward the gate without seeing her, when she arrested him with a fateful whisper.
"Bob!"
Mr. Robert Williams swung about hastily. "Why, Margaret!"
"Here, take your guitar," she whispered hurriedly. "I was afraid if father happened to find it he'd break it all to pieces!"
"What for?" asked the startled Robert.
"Because I'm sure he knows it's yours."
"But what"
"Oh, Bob," she moaned, "I was waiting here to tell you. I was so afraid you'd try to come in"
"Try!" exclaimed the unfortunate young man, quite dumfounded. "Try to come"
"Yes, before I warned you. I've been waiting here to tell you, Bob, you mustn't come near the house—if I were you I'd stay away from even this
