ble magazines. If it's only a young ten-center he
says 'Damn!' right out in print. Then, love scene on mesa, faithful cow
pony and mountains in background, and return to New York by next train,
with clean-limbed Harold in one of our gent's nobby sack suits that sets
off the unconscious grace of his slight but muscular figure--oh, you
know the story."

"I have read it somewhere--something like it."

"You'll go on reading it. But you'll have to pretty your cowboys if you
make the pictures for it. Hulston usually illustrates it. He can draw a
cowboy that would make a bunch of violets look coarse."

"I'm afraid I couldn't----"

"Of course you couldn't. But you'll find work. Some of the magazines
are becoming reckless and printing stories of cowboys that are almost
real. Come along to the club. You'll meet some fellows there. The chap
that printed my book is dining with me, but he'll slip off early and we
can have the evening together."

"I liked your book," Ewing ventured, when they were in the street.

"Well, that's comforting. I dare say it was easier to read than it was
to write. But about this club you're going to--it's a little place we've
started lately--illustrators, newspaper men, book writers and that ilk.
You must join. I believe I'll be safe in putting you up."

"I never joined a club," Ewing confessed. "Are there conditions?"

"Rigid ones--you must have ten dollars for the entrance-fee, and not be
a leper."

"Well"--Ewing debated--"I have the money----"

"That's all _you_ need think about. The other part is ours. We have you
in to dine and look you over. Lots of men go there with an idea that
they must be witty. One fellow was turned down last week for springing
'made' jokes at the table. I believe he spoke of 'quail on trust' as we
were served with that bird--and in the hearing of three members of the
board of Abbots. That settled him, of course. They didn't need his
imitations of a German dialect comedian, which he sought to convulse
them with later. Another man was turned down lately for saying, 'Oh, how
quaintly bohemian!' after he'd looked about the grill room. Another was
ejected for playing 'chopsticks' on the piano with the edges of his
hands. They didn't even let _him_ get to the table. That's the sort of
thing--and we're strict, even though we need the money. I'm bursar and
I know. There are weird jests about my decamping with the club funds,
but I've never had enough surplus yet to take me