character with
a vividness worthy of a Dickens. For instance, when, in speaking of
his father-in-law, he said that "the family used to have to treat him
with cocaine before he could stand it to give up a nickel," I thought
it a very forceful way of expressing the old man's carefulness.

As the days went by and nothing came of my efforts to get a position
for Checkers, I had perforce to drop the matter, and Checkers never
again referred to it.

Gradually his visits became less frequent, as I ceased to continue a
profitable subject; for his invention, however fertile, could not
furnish new excuses forever. But I often found myself gathering up the
threads of his story as he had told it, weaving into the growing fabric
some strands of my own imaginings, until I seemed to find in it an odd
and pathetic little romance.

* * * * *

The town of Clarksville, Ark., was not attractive at any time, but to
Checkers, who had arrived there with Arthur Kendall at three o'clock
that summer's morning en route from Hot Springs, the aspect of the
place seemed particularly dismal.

The train which had brought them from Little Rock steamed away toward
the Territory, and left them standing in darkness on the station
platform.

A 'bus from the hotel, with two forlorn old horses driven by a sleepy,
shock-headed boy, stood waiting on the other side. They entered it and
went creaking off.

As Arthur had previously explained to Checkers, his father's home was
some miles from town, and accordingly he thought it better for them to
sleep at the hotel until morning, have their breakfast, and then drive
out.

As they lumbered along the dusty streets in the silence of the early
morning, Checkers peered curiously out, and found his original
impressions gaining strength.

The stars were shining clear and luminous, and in the East there was
just the faintest glow which told of the coming sunrise. A vaporish
mist hung low on the ground, and in the dim uncertain light all objects
seemed to take to themselves a weird and most uncanny look. At
frequent intervals a "razor-back," already up and browsing about, would
trot tardily out of the horses' way, grunting his dissatisfaction.

Shortly they turned into what seemed to be the street of the town. It
was wider and dustier than any of the others, and on it stood a large
brick structure, which Checkers judged to be the court house. It
formed what is commonly known