TAG; OR, THE CHIEN BOULE DOG
too, but she would look over her list. Patty sank into a chair feeling as if her life were at stake. The reprieve came. The secretary looked up with a beaming smile. She had the very thing. A widow, quiet house and locality, two front rooms with breakfast if desired. After a short conference over the telephone she confirmed the good news. “Mrs. Trent will be glad to rent the apartments, won't object to the little dog if kept in the basement and is fond of children.” The secretary smiled as she added, “She helps us with our work when she has time, and is a nice motherly woman with strong views against race-suicide.”
“Bless her heart!” exclaimed Patty as she took the address. She almost danced out to the cab, and Pat promised to add a half dollar to the driver’s already swollen tariff if he took them to this last address in half an hour.
