g razor, but the razor he carried for social purposes. He bent
down, and with the blade made swift slashes right and left at a limber
ankle joint, then rose again and was briskly upon his homeward way,
leaving behind him the maimed carcass, a rumpled little heap, lying in
the dust. A dozen times before he reached his boarding house he fingered
the furry talisman where it rested in the bottom of his hip pocket, and
each touching of it conveyed to him added confidences in propitious
auguries.

Surely enough, on the very next day but one, events seemed organizing
themselves with a view to justifying his anticipations. As a consequence
of the illness of Tom Montjoy he was offered and accepted what promised
to be for the time being a lucrative position as Tom Montjoy's
substitute on the back end of one of Fowler & Givens' ice wagons. The
Eighteenth Amendment was not as yet an accomplished fact, though the
dread menace of it hung over that commonwealth which had within its
confines the largest total number of distilleries and bonded warehouses
to be found in any state of this union. Observing no hope of legislative
relief, sundry local saloon keepers had failed to renew their licenses
as these expired. But for every saloon which closed its doors it seemed
there was a soda fountain set up to fizz and to spout; and the books of
Fowler & Givens showed the name of a new customer to replace each
vanished old one. So trade ran its even course, and Red Hoss was
retained temporarily to understudy, as it were, the invalid Montjoy.

In an afternoon lull following the earlier rush of deliveries Mr. Ham
Givens came out to where Tallow Dick Evans, Bill Tilghman and Red Hoss
reclined at ease in the lee of the ice factory's blank north wall and
bade Red Hoss hook up one of the mules to the light single wagon and
carry three of the hundred-pound blocks out to Biederman's ex-corner
saloon, now Biederman's soft-drink and ice-cream emporium, at Ninth and
Washington.

"Better let him take Blue Wing," said Mr. Givens, addressing Bill
Tilghman, who by virtue of priority of service and a natural affinity
for draft stock was stable boss for the firm.

It was Bill Tilghman who once had delivered himself of the sage remark
that "A mule an' a nigger is 'zackly alike--'specially de mule."

"Can't tek Blue Wing, Mist' Givens," answered Bill. "She done went up to
Mist' Gallowayses' blacksmith shop to git herse'f some new shoes."

This pluralization