t, and
fire ran through him. He drained the cup--still holding it with both
hands. It was an amazing sensation to have one's hand refuse to obey so
simple an order. Maybe he would always be that way now, practically a
cripple.

The girl turned back to him. "Atta boy," she said. "Now take the orange.
And when the toast comes you can have some more coffee." A dread load
was off his mind. He did not dream this thing. He ate the orange, and
ate wonderful toast to the accompaniment of another cup of coffee. The
latter half of this he managed with but one hand, though it was not yet
wholly under control. The three eggs seemed like but one. He thought
they must have been small eggs. More toast was commanded and more
coffee.

"Easy, easy!" cautioned his watchful hostess from time to time. "Don't
wolf it--you'll feel better afterwards."

"I feel better already," he announced.

"Well," the girl eyed him critically, "you certainly got the main
chandelier lighted up once more."

A strange exhilaration flooded all his being. His own thoughts babbled
to him, and he presently began to babble to his new friend.

"You remind me so much of Tessie Kearns," he said as he scraped the
sides of the egg cup.

"Who's she?"

"Oh, she's a scenario writer I know. You're just like her." He was now
drunk--maudlin drunk--from the coffee. Sober, he would have known that
no human beings could be less alike than Tessie Kearns and the Montague
girl. Other walls of his reserve went down.

"Of course I could have written to Gashwiler and got some money to go
back there--"

"Gashwiler, Gashwiler?" The girl seemed to search her memory. "I thought
I knew all the tank towns, but that's a new one. Where is it?"

"It isn't a town; it's a gentleman I had a position with, and he
said he'd keep it open for me." He flew to another thought with the
inconsequence of the drunken. "Say, Kid"--He had even caught that form
of address from her--"I'll tell you. You can keep this watch of mine
till I pay you back this money." He drew it out. "It's a good solid-gold
watch and everything. My uncle Sylvester gave it to me for not
smoking, on my eighteenth birthday. He smoked, himself; he even drank
considerable. He was his own worst enemy. But you can see it's a good
solid--gold watch and keeps time, and you hold it till I pay you back,
will you?"

The girl took the watch, examining it carefully, noting the inscription
engraved on the case. There were puzzling