n his basket and planted himself before the conductor.

"You pay for those bananas," said Toddles in a low voice--which was
high.

"When'll he grow up?" continued Hawkeye, peeling more fruit. "I don't
know--you've got me. The first time I saw him two years ago, I'm hanged
if he wasn't bigger than he is now--guess he grows backwards. Have a
banana?" He offered one to Nulty, who refused it.

"You pay for those bananas, you big stiff!" squealed Toddles
belligerently.

Hawkeye turned his head slowly and turned his little beady, black eyes
on Toddles, then he turned with a wink to the others, and for the first
time in two years offered payment. He fished into his pocket and handed
Toddles a twenty-dollar bill--there always was a mean streak in Hawkeye,
more or less of a bully, none too well liked, and whose name on the pay
roll, by the way, was Reynolds.

"Take fifteen cents out of that," he said, with no idea that the boy
could change the bill.

For a moment Toddles glared at the yellow-back, then a thrill of unholy
glee came to Toddles. He could just about make it, business all around
had been pretty good that day, particularly on the run west in the
morning.

Hawkeye went on with the exposition of his idea of humor at Toddles'
expense; and Toddles went back to his chest and his reserve funds.
Toddles counted out eighteen dollars in bills, made a neat pile of four
quarters--the lead one on the bottom--another neat pile of the odd
change, and returned to Hawkeye. The lead quarter wouldn't go very far
toward liquidating Hawkeye's long-standing indebtedness--but it would
help some.

Queer, isn't it--the way things happen? Think of a man's whole life,
aspirations, hopes, ambitions, everything, pivoting on--a lead quarter!
But then they say that opportunity knocks once at the door of every man;
and, if that be true, let it be remarked in passing that Toddles wasn't
deaf!

Hawkeye, making Toddles a target for a parting gibe, took up his lantern
and started through the train to pick up the fates from the last stop.
In due course he halted before the inebriated one with the glittering
tie-pin in the smoking compartment of the parlor car.

"Ticket, please," said Hawkeye.

"Too busy to buysh ticket," the man informed him, with heavy confidence.
"Whash fare Loon Dam to Big Cloud?"

"One-fifty," said Hawkeye curtly.

The man produced a roll of bills, and from the roll extracted a
two-dollar note.

Hawkeye handed hi