as if he were a sick child. She knew, and
he knew, that the lot was no longer any place for him until he could be
rightly there.

"No, c'mon, I'll stay by you." They walked up the street of the Western
village. The girl had started at a brisk pace and he was presently
breathless.

"I guess I'll have to rest a minute," he said. They were now before the
Crystal Palace Hotel and he sat on the steps.

"All in, are you? Well, take it easy."

He was not only all in, but his mind still played with incongruous
sentences. He heard himself saying things that must sound foolish.

"I've slept in here a lot," he volunteered. The girl went to look
through one of the windows.

"Blankets!" she exclaimed. "Well, you got the makings of a trouper in
you, I'll say that. Where else did you sleep?"

"Well, there were two miners had a nice cabin down the street here with
bunks and blankets, and they had a fight, and half a kettle of beans and
some bread, and one of them shaved and I used his razor, but I haven't
shaved since because I only had twenty cents day before yesterday, and
anyway they might think I was growing them for a part, the way your
father did, but I moved up here when I saw them put the blankets in, and
I was careful and put them back every morning. I didn't do any harm,
do you think? And I got the rest of the beans they'd thrown into the
fireplace, and if I'd only known it I could have brought my razor and
overcoat and some clean collars, but somehow you never seem to know
when--"

He broke off, eyeing her vaguely. He had little notion what he had been
saying or what he would say next.

"This is going to be good," said the Montague girl. "I can see that from
here. But now you c'mon-we'll walk slow-and you tell me the rest when
you've had a little snack."

She even helped him to rise, with a hand under his elbow, though he
was quick to show her that he had not needed this help. "I can walk all
right," he assured her.

"Of course you can. You're as strong as a horse. But we needn't go too
fast." She took his arm in a friendly way as they completed the journey
to the outside cafeteria.

At this early hour they were the only patrons of the place. Miss
Montague, a little with the air of a solicitous nurse, seated her charge
at a corner table and took the place opposite him.

"What's it going to be?" she demanded.

Visions of rich food raced madly through his awakened mind, wide
platters heaped with sausage and