non-union,
and I begin having trouble with my inside help. Morrow turned in a
hurry-up call for the Red Cross, two medical colleges, and the
Society of Psycolic Research. Between 'em they diagnosed me as
containing everything from 'housemaid's knee' to homesickness of the
vital organs, but I _know_. I swallered a plum pit, and it sprouted.

"Next day, when I come out of it, Justus had heard from Denver. His
wife had been gone a year, destination unknown. Somebody thought she
went to California, so, two days later, we registered at the Palace,
and the 'Frisco police begin dreaming of five thousand dollar rewards.

"It was no use, though. One day I met Struthers on Market Street,
and he was scared stiff to hear that Morrow was in town. It seems he
was night editor of one of the big dailies.

"'Do you know where the girl is?' says I.

"'Yes, she's in New York,' he answers, looking queer, so I hurried
back to the hotel.

"As I was explaining to Morrow, a woman passed us in the hall with a
little boy. In the dimness, the lad mistook Justus.

"'Oh, papa, papa!" he yells, and grabs him by the knees, laughing and
kicking.

"'Ah-h!' my pardner sighs, hoarse as a raven, and quicker'n light he
snatched the little shaver to him, then seeing his mistake, dropped
him rough. His face went grey again, and he got wabbly at the
hinges, so I helped him into the parlour. He had that hungry, Yukon
look, and breathed like he was wounded.

"'You come with me,' says I, 'and get your mind off of things. The
eastern limited don't leave till midnight. Us to the theatre!'

"It was a swell tepee, all right. Variety house, with moving
pictures, and actorbats, and two-ton soubrettes, with Barrios
diamonds and hand-painted socks.

"First good show I'd seen in three years, and naturally humour broke
out all over me. When joy spreads its wings in my vitals, I sound
like a boy with a stick running past a picket-fence. Not so Morrow.
He slopped over the sides of his seat, like he'd been spilled into
the house.

"Right after the sea-lions, the orchestra spieled some teetery music,
and out floats a woman, slim and graceful as an antelope. She had a
big pay-dump of brown hair, piled up on her hurricane deck, with eyes
that snapped and crinkled at the corners. She single-footed in like
a derby colt, and the somnambulists in the front row begin to show
cause. Something about her startled me, so I nudged the kid, but he
was chi