d rather starve with you in New York," said Claire, "than die
here without you."

At these words Billy desired greatly to kiss Claire, but the guards were
scowling at him. It was not until Claire had gone to her room to pack
her bag and the chance to kiss her had passed that Billy recognized that
the scowls were intended to convey the fact that the beer bottles were
empty. He remedied this and remained alone at his table considering the
out look. The horizon was, indeed, gloomy, and the only light upon it,
the loyalty and love of the girl, only added to his bitterness. Above
all things he desired to make her content, to protect her from disquiet,
to convince her that in the sacrifice she was making she also was
plotting her own happiness. Had he been able to collect his ten thousand
francs his world would have danced in sunshine. As it was, the heavens
were gray and for the future the skies promised only rainy days. In
these de pressing reflections Billy was interrupted by the approach of
the young man in the Panama hat. Billy would have avoided him, but the
young man and his two friends would not be denied. For the service Billy
had rendered them they wished to express their gratitude. It found
expression in the form of Planter's punch. As they consumed this Billy
explained to the strangers why the customs men had detained them.

"You told them you were leaving to-night for Santo Domingo," said Billy;
"but they knew that was impossible, for there is no steamer down the
coast for two weeks."

The one whose features seemed familiar replied:

"Still, we are leaving to-night," he said; "not on a steamer, but on a
war-ship."

"A war-ship?" cried Billy. His heart beat at high speed. "Then," he
exclaimed, "you are a naval officer?"

The young man shook his head and, as though challenging Billy to make
another guess, smiled.

"Then," Billy complied eagerly, "you are a diplomat! Are you our new
minister?"

One of the other young men exclaimed reproachfully:

"You know him perfectly well!" he protested. "You've seen his picture
thousands of times."

With awe and pride he placed his hand on Billy's arm and with the other
pointed at the one in the Panama hat.

"It's Harry St. Clair," he announced. "Harry St. Clair, the King of the
Movies!"

"The King of the Movies," repeated Billy. His disappointment was so keen
as to be embarrassing.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, "I thought you----" Then he remembered his manners.
"Glad