'notable events,' but the memory required is all the more remarkable, is
it not?"

"Pooh!" was his friend's provoking reply, "you are bluffing, Ben; I will
never believe that."

Mr. T-, who had passed by this time into that stage of intoxication
which makes persistence in an assertion a duty as well as a pleasure,
threw back his head, and as the wreaths of smoke rose in airy spirals
from his lips, reiterated his statement, and offered to submit to any
test of his vaunted powers which the other might dictate.

"You keep a diary--" began Joe.

"Which at the present moment is at home," completed the other.

"Will you allow me to refer to it tomorrow, if I am suspicious of the
accuracy of your recollections?"

"Undoubtedly," returned the other.

"Very well, then, I will wager you a cool fifty that you cannot tell
where you were between the hours of ten and eleven on a certain night
which I will name."

"Done!" cried the other, bringing out his pocket-book and laying it on
the table before him.

Joe followed his example and then summoned me.

"Write a date down here," he commanded, pushing a piece of paper towards
me, with a look keen as the flash of a blade. "Any date, man," he added,
as I appeared to hesitate in the embarrassment I thought natural under
the circumstances. "Put down day, month, and year, only don't go too far
back; not farther than two years."

Smiling with the air of a flunkey admitted to the sports of his
superiors, I wrote a line and laid it before Mr. Smithers, who at once
pushed it with a careless gesture towards his companion. You can of
course guess the date I made use of: July 17, 19--. Mr. T--, who had
evidently looked upon this matter as mere play, flushed scarlet as he
read these words, and for one instant looked as if he had rather fly the
house than answer Joe Smithers's nonchalant glance of inquiry.

"I have given my word and will keep it," he said at last, but with a
look in my direction that sent me reluctantly back to my retreat. "I
don't suppose you want names," he went on; "that is, if anything I have
to tell is of a delicate nature?"

"Oh, no," answered the other, "only facts and places."

"I don't think places are necessary either," he returned. "I will tell
you what I did and that must serve you. I did not promise to give number
and street."

"Well, well," Joe exclaimed; "earn your fifty, that is all. Show that
you remember where you were on the night of"--and with