ing speeches, behold! the affair was accomplished.

Disgustedly Billy turned away. Then on the other side of him he
heard a voice, a sweet and rather high voice, with a musical
intensity of inflection that was as English as the Union Jack.

"Yes, it's _sweetly_ pretty," the voice was saying irresolutely,
"but I don't think I _quite_ care to--not at _that_ price."

"I--I will buy it for you--yes?" said another voice. "It is made for
you--so 'sweetly pretty' as you say."

Billy turned. A slim, tall girl in a dark blue frock was standing
before a counter of Oriental jewelry, her head turned, with an air
of startled surprise, to the man on the other side of her who had
just spoken. He was a short, stout, blond man, heavily flushed,
showily dressed, with a fulsome beam in his light-blue eyes and an
ingratiating grin beneath his upturned straw-colored mustaches.

The girl turned her head away toward the shop-keeper and put back
the turquoise-studded buckle she held in her hand. "No, I do not
care for it," she said in a steady voice whose coldness was for the
intruder and turned away.

Billy had a glimpse of scarlet cheeks and dark lashed eyes before
the blond young man again took his attention.

"You do not like it--no?" he said, blocking her path, his face
thrust out to smile into hers. "But I buy you anything you wish--I
make you one present----"

The girl gave a quick look about. But she was in a pocket; for there
was no other exit to that line of shops but the path he was
blocking. All about her the dark-skinned venders and shoppers, the
bearded men, the veiled women, the impish urchins, were watching the
encounter with beady eyes of malicious interest.

Billy took a quick step forward and touched the man on the arm. "Let
this lady pass, please," he said.

The German confronted him with blood-shot blue eyes that ceased to
smile and clearly welcomed the belligerency.

"Gott! Who are you?" he derided. "Get out--get out the way."

"Get out yourself," said Billy, and stepping in front of the fellow
he extended a rigid 