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, with the alarm of regularity, aroused Joan Daisy in time for work on Monday morning. Habitually she was out of bed in a moment, alert and lively, however late she might have been the night before; but this morning she felt tired and heavy; and as she sat up to orient herself in relation to the persons important to her, she remembered that Ket's room was empty and that he was locked in a police cell indefinitely located downtown.

Hoberg, she recollected, had come to her door with Dads last night but since she was in bed, Dads had refused to let him in.

Now there was another man, suddenly become of overwhelming importance to her, whom she must place in relation to herself, whenever she took her reckonings; he was Mr. Clarke of the state's attorney's office, who was bound to kill Ket, if he could, and demolish in her the dream for which and by which she lived.

Sunlight streamed through her east window and the might of the sun, the spread of the city below it, the morning murmur of millions beginning again to go about their tasks, excited Joan Daisy and reinspired her to fight. She would fight Mr. Clarke for Ket and save him! Saving Ket, she could go on about her business of making him great, she could work, work, work with him and through him for her worth in the world, which a girl needed for a goal on a morning like this with sunlight over the city.

So Joan Daisy arose, tired no longer. Quietly, out of regard for the slumber of her mother and Dads, she went to the kitchenette and started coffee for herself and put