h his
fellow workers built about themselves, and as they had shown no desire
for his company, he retaliated by showing still less for theirs, with
the result that he found himself very much alone and apart from the
life of his new surroundings.

His work and supper were over by seven o'clock each evening, and now
was the opportunity for him to begin the schooling for which he had
left the ranch. But he developed a sudden disinclination to make the
start; he was tired in the evening, and he found it much more to his
liking to stroll down town, smoke cigarettes on the street corners, or
engage in an occasional game of pool. In this way the weeks went by,
and when his month with Metford was up he had neglected to find another
position, so he continued where he was. He was being gradually and
unconsciously submerged in an inertia which, however much it might hate
its present surroundings, had not the spirit to seek a more favourable
environment.

So the fall and winter drifted along; Dave had made few acquaintances
and no friends, if we except Conward, whom he frequently met in the
pool rooms, and for whom he had developed a sort of attachment. His
first underlying sense of distrust had been lulled by closer
acquaintanceship; Conward's mild manner and quiet, seductive voice
invited friendship, and it became a customary thing for the two to play
for small stakes, which Dave won as often as he lost.

One Saturday evening as Dave was on the way to their accustomed resort
he fell in with Conward on the street. "Hello, old man," said Conward,
cheerily, "I was just looking for you. Got two tickets for the show
to-night. Some swell dames in the chorus. Come along. There'll be
doings."

There were two theatres in the town, one of which played to the better
class residents. In it anything of a risque nature had to be presented
with certain trimmings which allowed it to be classified as "art," but
in the other house no such restrictions existed. It was to the latter
that Conward led. Dave had been there before, in the cheap upper
gallery, but Conward's tickets admitted to the best seats in the house.
Dave had adopted town ways to the point where he changed his clothes
and put on a white collar Saturday evenings, and he found himself amid
the gay rustle and perfumes of the orchestra floor with a very pleasant
sense of being somebody among other somebodies. The orchestra played a
swinging air, to which his foot kept t