ng," he said. "I suppose you'll try to find
something to do. I don't think you could get a place here; Judge Pike
owns the Tocsin, and I greatly fear he has a prejudice against you."

"I expect he has," Joe chuckled, somewhat sadly. "But I don't want
newspaper work. I'm going to practice law."

"By Jove! you have courage, my festive prodigal. VRAIMENT!"

Joe cocked his head to one side with his old look of the friendly
puppy. "You always did like to talk that noveletty way, 'Gene, didn't
you?" he said, impersonally.

Eugene's color rose. "Have you saved up anything to starve on?" he
asked, crisply.

"Oh, I'm not so badly off. I've had a salary in an office for a year,
and I had one pretty good day at the races--"

"You'd better go back and have another," said his step-brother. "You
don't seem to comprehend your standing in Canaan."

"I'm beginning to." Joe turned to the door. "It's funny, too--in a
way. Well--I won't keep you any longer. I just stopped in to say
good-day--" He paused, faltering.

"All right, all right," Eugene said, briskly. "And, by-the-way, I
haven't mentioned that I saw you in New York."

"Oh, I didn't suppose that you would."

"And you needn't say anything about it, I fancy."

"I don't think," said Joe,--"I don't think that you need be afraid I'll
do that. Good-bye."

"Be sure to shut the door, please; it's rather noisy with it open.
Good-bye." Eugene waved his hand and sank back upon the divan.

Joe went across the street to the "National House." The sages fell as
silent as if he had been Martin Pike. They had just had the pleasure
of hearing a telephone monologue by Mr. Brown, the clerk, to which they
listened intently: "Yes. This is Brown. Oh--oh, it's Judge Pike?
Yes indeed, Judge, yes indeed, I hear you--ha, ha! Of course, I
understand. Yes, Judge, I heard he was in town. No, he hasn't been
here. Not yet, that is, Judge. Yes, I hear. No, I won't, of course.
Certainly not. I will, I will. I hear perfectly, I understand. Yes,
sir. Good-bye, Judge."

Joe had begun to write his name in the register. "My trunk is still at
the station," he said. "I'll give you my check to send down for it."

"Excuse me," said the clerk. "We have no rooms."

"What!" cried Joe, innocently. "Why, I never knew more than eight
people to stay here at the same time in my life."

"We have no rooms," repeated the clerk, curtly.

"Is there a convention here?"

"We have no