an old aunt. You see it was just about the time I met her that
everybody began to come back from France in droves--and all I did was
to welcome the newly arrived and go on parties with 'em. That's the
way it started, Phil, just from being glad to see everybody and having
them glad to see me."

"You ought to've had more sense."

"I know," Gordon paused, and then continued listlessly. "I'm on my own
now, you know, and Phil, I can't stand being poor. Then came this darn
girl. She sort of fell in love with me for a while and, though I never
intended to get so involved, I'd always seem to run into her
somewhere. You can imagine the sort of work I was doing for those
exporting people--of course, I always intended to draw; do
illustrating for magazines; there's a pile of money in it."

"Why didn't you? You've got to buckle down if you want to make good,"
suggested Dean with cold formalism.

"I tried, a little, but my stuff's crude. I've got talent, Phil; I can
draw--but I just don't know how. I ought to go to art school and I
can't afford it. Well, things came to a crisis about a week ago. Just
as I was down to about my last dollar this girl began bothering me.
She wants some money; claims she can make trouble for me if she
doesn't get it."

"Can she?"

"I'm afraid she can. That's one reason I lost my job--she kept calling
up the office all the time, and that was sort of the last straw down