"'No,' said our hero in a clear, ringing voice; 'all your tainted gold
would not keep me here in the foul, crowded city. I must have the free,
wild life of the plains, the canter after the Texas steers, and the
fierce battles with my peers. For me the boundless, the glorious West!'"

"Chee! It must be something grand--that wild life!" interrupted
Boogles. "That's the real stuff--the cowboy and trapper on them
peraries, hunting bufflers and Injuns. I seen a film--"

Jimmie Time frowned at this. He did not like interruptions. He firmly
resumed the tale:

"With a gesture of disdain our hero waved aside the proffered gold of
the scoundrelly millionaire and dashed down the stairway of the proud
mansion to where his gallant steed, Midnight, was champing at the
hitching post. At that moment--"

Romance was snatched from the hands of Jimmie Time. The manager towered
above him.

"Ain't I told you guys not to be taking up the company's time with them
novels?" he demanded. He sternly returned to his big chair behind the
railing, where he no less sternly took up his own perusal of the
confiscated tale.

"The big stiff!" muttered Jimmie. "That's the third one he's copped on
me this week. A kid in this choint ain't got no rights! I got a good
notion to throw 'em down cold and go with the Postal people."

"Never mind! I'll blow you to an ice cream after work," consoled
Boogles.

"Ice cream!" Jimmie Time was contemptuous. "I want the free, wild life
of the boundless peraries. I want b'ar steaks br'iled on the glowing
coals of the camp fire. I want to be Little Sure Shot, trapper, scout,
and guide--"

"Next out!" yelled the manager. "Hustle now!"

Jimmie Time was next out. He hustled sullenly.

Boogles, alone, slept fitfully on his bench until the young thugs of the
day watch straggled in. Then he achieved the change of his uniform to
civilian garments, with only the accustomed minor maltreatment at the
hands of these tormentors. True, with sportive affectations--yet with
deadly intentness--they searched him for possible loot; but only his
pockets. His dollar bill, folded inside his collar, went unfound. With
assumed jauntiness he strolled from the outlaws' den and safely reached
the street.

The gilding on the castellated towers of the tallest building in the
world dazzled his blinking, foolish eyes. That was a glorious summit
which sang to the new sun, but no higher than his own elation at the
moment. Had he not com