He's a good one, all right." Kitty, who, had been looking away down the street while the Dean was talking, put her hand on Helen's arm.

"Look down there, Helen.

I believe that is Patches now--that man sitting on his horse at the cross street, at the foot of the hill, just outside the ropes." Helen was looking through the field glasses.

"I see him," she cried.
"Now, that's more like it.

He looks like what I expected to see.