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“Where’d them fellows go?” gasped the officer, instantly reappearing up the steps of the basement.

“How should I know?” answered Van Bibber, and added, with ill-timed lightness, “they didn’t leave any address.” The officer stared at him with severe suspicion, and then disappeared again under one of the trucks.

“I am very, very much obliged to you, Miss Cuyler,” Van Bibber said. He tried to raise his hat, but the efforts of the gentleman who had struck him from behind had been successful and the hat came off only after a wrench that made him wince.

“You were very brave,” he went on. “And it was very good of you to stand by me. You won’t mind my saying so, now, will you? But you gave the wrong rap. I hadn’t time to tell you to change it.” He mopped the back of his head tenderly with his handkerchief, and tried to smile cheerfully. “You see, you were giving the rap,” he explained politely, “for a fire-engine; but it’s of no consequence.” Miss Cuyler came closer to him, and he saw that her face showed sudden anxiety.

“Mr. Van Bibber!” she exclaimed. “Oh, I didn’t know it was you! I didn’t know it was any one who knew me. What will you think?”

“I beg your pardon,” said Van Bibber, blankly.

“You must not believe,” she went on, quickly, “that I am subject to this sort of thing. Please do not imagine I am annoyed down here like this. It has never happened before. I was nursing a woman, and her son, who generally goes home with me, was kept at the works, and I thought I could risk getting back alone. You see,” she explained, as Van Bibber’s face showed he was still puzzled, “my people do not fancy my living down here; and if they should hear of this they would never consent to my remaining another day, and it means so much to me now.”

“They need not hear of it,” Van Bibber answered, sympathetically. “They certainly won’t from me, if that’s what you mean.”

The officer had returned, and interrupted them brusquely. It seemed to him that he was not receiving proper attention.

“Say, what’s wrong here?” he demanded. “Did that gang take anything off’n you.”

“They did not,” said Van Bibber. “They held me up, but they didn’t take nothin’ off’n of me.”

The officer flushed uncomfortably, and was certain now that he was being undervalued. He surveyed the blood running down over Van Bibber’s collar with a smile of malicious satisfaction.

“They done you up, any way,” he suggested.

“Yes, they done me up,” assented Van Bibber, cheerfully, “and if you’d come a little sooner they’d done you up too.”

He stepped to Miss Cuyler’s side, and they walked on down the street to the College Settlement in silence, the policeman following uncertainly in the rear.

“I haven’t thanked you, Mr. Van Bibber,” said Miss Cuyler. “It was really fine of you, and most exciting. You must be very strong. I can’t imagine how you happened to be there, but it was most fortunate for me that you were. If you had not, I–“

“Oh, that’s all right,” said Van Bibber, hurriedly. “I haven’t had so much fun without paying for it for a long time. Fun,” he added, meditatively, “costs so much.”

“And you will be so good, then, as not to speak of it,” she said, as she gave him her hand at the door.

“Of course not. Why should I?” said Van Bibber, and then his face beamed and clouded again instantly. “But, oh,” he begged, “I’m afraid I’ll have to tell Travers! Oh, please let me tell Travers! I’ll make him promise not to mention it, but it’s too good a joke on him, when you think what he missed. You see,” he added, hastily, “we were to have gone out together, and he forgot, as usual, and missed the whole thing, and he wasn’t in it, and it will just about break his heart. He’s always getting grinds on me,” he went on, persuasively, “and now I’ve got this on him. You will really have to let me tell Travers.”