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HE tug from Chicago picked them up at dawn.

The captain had coffee heated and had his JL cabin, with fresh blankets, ready to be turned over to the lady.

Fidelia drank a big cup of coffee and ate two large sandwiches. She lay down in the blankets and slept soundly through the two hours the tug spent in buffeting its way back to the harbor. The captain, who was an Irishman named Maloney with a wife and five children—a fact which he frequently mentioned as proof of his knowledge of what was best for the lady ("Saints presarvepreserve [sic] us, but isn't she the grand beauty?")—forbade any one to make a noise and he prepared to stand guard personally, after the tug docked, so that "the young thing" could have her sleep out. But Fidelia was awake and she emerged from the blankets pink and lovely. She delighted Maloney and all the crew, and made them get into the picture the newspaper men took of her.

Mrs. Fansler took charge of Fidelia when Maloney had let "the darlint" go. She had sat up, or had dozed beside her telephone all night, had Mrs. Fansler; and when she got news that the tug was returning to Chicago, she had hastened to the city.

"Child," said Mrs. Fansler, kissing and clasping her.