droom to be had, but only a bed in a double-bedded
room.

"Will that suit you?" said the clerk.

"Well, I don't know," I said hesitatingly. "Who is the other?"

"Oh, that's all right," said the clerk, "you may set your mind at rest
on that subject."

"Very well," I replied, "I will take that bed."

At about ten o'clock, as I was preparing to go to bed, my bedroom
companion entered. It was a frontier man in full uniform: Buffalo Bill
hat, leather leggings, a belt accommodating a couple of revolvers--no
baggage of any kind.

I did not like it.

"Hallo, stranger," said the man, "how are you?"

"I'm pretty well," I replied, without meaning a word of it.

The frontier man undressed, that is to say, took off his boots, placed
the two revolvers under his pillows and lay down.

I liked it less and less.

By and by, we both went to sleep. In the morning we woke up at the
same time. He rose, dressed--that is to say, put on his boots, and
wished me good-morning.

[Illustration: MY ROOM-MATE.]

The hall porter came with letters for my companion, but none for me. I
thought I should like to let that man know I had no money with me. So
I said to him:

"I am very much disappointed. I expected some money from New York, and
it has not come."

"I hope it will come," he replied.

I did not like that hope.

In the evening, we met again. He undressed--you know, went to sleep,
rose early in the morning, dressed--you know.

The porter came again with letters for him and none for me.

"Well, your money has not come," he said.

"I see it has not. I'm afraid I'm going to be in a fix what to do."

"I'm going away this morning."

"Are you?" I said. "I'm sorry to part with you."

The frontier man took a little piece of paper and wrote something on
it.

"Take this, my friend," he said; "it may be useful to you."

It was a check for a hundred dollars.

I could have gone down on my knees, as I refused the check and asked
that man's pardon.

* * * * *

I lectured in Brooklyn to-night, and am off to the West to-morrow
morning.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXXIII.

CINCINNATI--THE TOWN--THE SUBURBS--A GERMAN CITY--"OVER THE
RHINE"--WHAT IS A GOOD PATRIOT?--AN IMPRESSIVE FUNERAL--A GREAT
FIRE--HOW IT APPEARED TO ME, AND HOW IT APPEARED TO THE NEWSPAPER
REPORTERS.

_Cincinnati, March 7._