good-humor. The
nose had been broken at one period of its career, and one of the
ears was undeniably of the cauliflower type; but these are little
accidents which may happen to any high-spirited young gentleman. In
costume, the visitor had evidently been guided rather by individual
taste than by the dictates of fashion. His coat was of rusty black,
his trousers of gray, picked out with stains of various colors.
Beneath the coat was a faded red-and-white sweater. A hat of soft
felt lay on the floor by the table.

The cut of the coat was poor, and the fit of it spoiled by a bulge
in one of the pockets. Diagnosing this bulge correctly, Jimmy
inserted his hand, and drew out a dingy revolver.

"Well?" he said, rising.

Like most people, he had often wondered what he should do if he were
to meet a burglar; and he had always come to the conclusion that
curiosity would be his chief emotion. His anticipations were proved
perfectly correct. Now that he had abstracted his visitor's gun, he
had no wish to do anything but engage him in conversation. A
burglar's life was something so entirely outside his experience! He
wanted to learn the burglar's point of view. Incidentally, he
reflected with amusement, as he recalled his wager, he might pick up
a few useful hints.

The man on the floor sat up, and rubbed the back of his head
ruefully.

"Gee!" he muttered. "I t'ought some guy had t'rown de buildin' at
me."

"It was only little me," said Jimmy. "Sorry if I hurt you at all.
You really want a mat for that sort of thing."

The man's hand went furtively to his pocket. Then, his eye caught
sight of the revolver, which Jimmy had placed on the table. With a
sudden dash, he seized it.

"Now, den, boss!" he said, between his teeth.

Jimmy extended his hand, and unclasped it. Six shells lay in the
palm.

"Why worry?" he said. "Sit down and let us talk of life."

"It's a fair cop, boss," said the man, resignedly.

"Away with melancholy," said Jimmy. "I'm not going to call the
police. You can beat it whenever you like."

The man stared.

"I mean it," said Jimmy. "What's the trouble? I've no grievance. I
wish, though, if you haven't any important engagement, you would
stop and talk awhile first."

A broad grin spread itself across the other's face. There was
something singularly engaging about him when he grinned.

"Gee! If youse ain't goin' to call de cops, I'll talk till de
chickens roost ag'in."

"Talking, however,"