t the best dinner in Denver, Lin hit on the skilful plan of
stopping at all Hot Scotches between; but the next occurred within a
few yards, and it was across the street. This one being attained and
appreciated, he found that he must cross back again or skip number four.
At this rate he would not be dining in time to see much of the theatre,
and he stopped to consider. It was a German place he had just
quitted, and a huge light poured out on him from its window, which the
proprietor's father-land sentiment had made into a show. Lights shone
among a well-set pine forest, where beery, jovial gnomes sat on roots
and reached upward to Santa Claus; he, grinning, fat, and Teutonic, held
in his right hand forever a foaming glass, and forever in his left a
string of sausages that dangled down among the gnomes. With his American
back to this, the cow-puncher, wearing the same serious, absent face he
had not changed since he ran away from himself at Cheyenne, considered
carefully the Hot Scotch question, and which side of the road to take
and stick to, while the little bootblacks found him once more and cried,
"Shine? Shine?" monotonous as snow-birds. He settled to stay over here
with the south-side Scotches, and the little one-note song reaching his
attention, he suddenly shoved his foot at the nearest boy, who lightly
sprang away.

"Dare you to touch him!" piped a snow-bird, dangerously. They were in
short trousers, and the eldest enemy, it may be, was ten.

"Don't hit me," said Mr. McLean "I'm innocent."

"Well, you leave him be," said one.

"What's he layin' to kick you for, Billy? 'Tain't yer pop, is it?"

"New!" said Billy, in scorn. "Father never kicked me. Don't know who he
is."

"He's a special!" shrilled the leading bird, sensationally. "He's got a
badge, and he's goin' to arrest yer."

Two of them hopped instantly to the safe middle of the street, and
scattered with practiced strategy; but Billy stood his ground. "Dare you
to arrest me!" said he.

"What'll you give me not to?" inquired Lin, and he put his hands in his
pockets, arms akimbo.

"Nothing; I've done nothing," announced Billy, firmly. But even in the
last syllable his voice suddenly failed, a terror filled his eyes, and
he, too, sped into the middle of the street.

"What's he claim you lifted?" inquired the leader, with eagerness.
"Tell him you haven't been inside a store to-day. We can prove it!" they
screamed to the special officer.

"Say," sai