distribute a box of his best brand among these
smokers, so as to give the room the odor of the Hasheesh Club. At first
it seemed a Babel of voices; there were men of several different
nationalities talking in three or four languages. Six men were standing
at the long counter drinking--one German, two Irishmen, a Portuguese
sailor, a white American, and a black one. The spirit of Vail seemed to
be looking for somebody; it peered round from table to table, where men
slammed down the cards so as to make as much noise as possible. Nobody
paid the least attention to the two strangers, and at last it flashed
upon Vanderhuyn that he and Vail were both invisible to the throng
around them.

The Presence stopped in front of a table where two young men sat. They
were playing euchre, and they were drinking. It is an old adage that
truth is told in wine, and with some men sense comes with whisky.

"I say, Joe," said one, "blamed ef it 'taint too bad; you and me
spendin' our time this way! The ole woman's mos' broke 'r heart over me
t'day. Sh' said I ought be the s'port 'f her ole dage, 'stid 'f boozin'
roun' thish yer way. 'S so! Tell you, Joe, 's so! Blam'd 'f 'taint.
Hey? W'at y' say? Hey?"

"Of course 'tis, Ben," growled the other; "we all know that. But what's
a feller goin' to do for company? Go on; it's your deal."

"Who kyeers fer th' deal? I d--on't. Now, Joe, I says, t--to th' ole
lady, y' see, I says, a young man can't live up a dingy stairs on th'
top floor al'ays, and never git no comp'ny. Can't do it. I don't want
t' 'rink much, but I c--ome here to git comp'ny. Comp'ny drinks, and I
git drunk 'f--fore I know 'fore you--pshaw! deal yerself 'f you want t'
play."

After a while he put the cards down again, and began:

"What think I done wunst? He, he! Went to th' Young Men's Chrissen
Soshiashen. Ole lady, you know, coaxed. He! he! You bet! Prayer
meetin', Bible class, or somethin'. All slick young fellers 'th side
whiskers. Talked pious, an' so genteel, you know. I went there fer
comp'ny! Didn' go no more. Druther git drunk at the 'free-and-easy'
ever' night, by George, 'n to be a slick kind 'f feller 'th side
whiskers a lis'nin' t' myself make purty speeches 'n a prayer Bible
class meetin' or such, you know. Hey? w'at ye say? Hey? 'S comp'ny a
feller wants, and 's comp'ny a feller's got t' have, by cracky! Hey?
W'at ye say? Hey, Joe?"

"Blam'd 'f 'tain't," said Joe.

"That's w'at them rich fellers goes to the