mine!--he's comin' with us, too,' And he shoved his arm
through the window and put the bottle in his pocket. By and by they came
to a river--'Hey!' said the can, again--'What's up?' said the old
hobo--'I'm dry,' said the can--'So am I,' said the hobo; and he dipped
the can in the water and gave it a very little drink. 'Hey!' said the
can, 'give us a drop more!'--'Wait a bit!' said the old hobo, and he
pulled the cork out of the bottle. 'Don't you pour any of that feller
into me!' said the can, 'he'll burn my inside out--an' yours--if you pour
him into me I'll open my mouth where I'm soldered and let him run out,
and you won't be able to drink out of me any more. Chuck him into the
river!--he's no good.'

"'You shut your mouth!' said the old hobo, 'or I'll chuck you into the
river!' And he poured some of the stuff out of the bottle into the can--"

At this exciting point poor George halted for breath and mopped his
forehead. He felt fully as thirsty as the tomato-can. But the children
were upon him, clutching his scarlet tunic:

"What did he do then?" howled Jerry.

"Eh?" gasped the young policeman,--"oh, he opened his mouth where he was
soldered and let the stuff run out. So the old hobo threw him into the
river. That's why hoboes always pack a bottle with them now instead of a
tomato-can."

He leaned back with a sigh and, thrusting his hands deep into his
pockets, smiled wanly at his vis-a-vis.

"There!" he said, with feeble triumph, "I've carried out the sentence."

And it did him good to drink in her mirthful, waggish laugh.

"Yes!" she conceded gaily, "you certainly did great execution, though you
look more like a prisoner just reprieved."

Jerry, screwing up his small snub nose leered triumphantly across her lap
at Alice. "Goozlemy, goozlemy, goozlemy!" he squeaked, "that man was a
real hobo."

His grimace was returned with interest. Alice hugged her puppy awhile
contentedly, murmuring in that canine's ear, "What a silly old thing that
tomato-can must have been. If I'd been him I'd have kept my mouth shut."

"Cow Run!" intoned the brakeman monotonously, passing through the
coaches, "Cow Run next stop!" His eye fell on Redmond. "Wish I'd seen
you before, Officer!" he remarked, "I'd have had a hobo for you. Beggar
stole a ride on us from Glenbow, back there. The con's goin' to chuck
him off here--do you want him?"

"No!" said Redmond shortly, "let the stiff go--I'm going on to
Davidsbu