with you."

"Yes," acquiesced the engineer, "and a full stomach, which is a good
thing to have along with your nerve. I have noticed that some times
the two go well together. However, the liquor was untouched, and I
hoped that he would take some more and thus again become oblivious to
everything else. One thing reassured me, and that was, that I had got
rid of his revolver or rather pistol. I was not afraid of his shooting
me, but had been afraid of his braining me with the butt end of it.

"It had now grown very dusk in the carriage, and outside the storm was
sweeping over the vast plain in white swirls, and still the train
lumbered westward. I decided to save the guard the trouble of lighting
up, so I attended to that myself, and pulled the dark hood over the
thick glass that was set in the center of the top of the compartment,
so that his royal Nibs could have his siesta undisturbed.

"Then I sat myself down in the corner of the carriage, and pulled out
my cigarette case, selected one and lighted it.

"'I trust your Highness will not mind the smoke?' I remarked in a low
tone, as I gave a delicate puff into the air, but I guess that his
Royal Highness did, for in a few moments he stirred ponderously, and
finally sat up. Then a look of utter amazement came into his face when
he saw me seated there in the corner with a cigarette in my fingers.
His little puffed eyes opened as wide as they could.

"'Poof!' blew out through his bewhiskered mouth, expressing utmost
disdain and indignation. Then he totally ignored my presence, and
picking up the hamper, he set it before him. The crucial moment had
come, and I must confess that I felt a few creeps of apprehension go
over me. As for his Royal Highness, his whole attitude was of great
hunger about to be satisfied.

"It showed in his popped eyes and the workings of his large,
full-lipped mouth. Then he flung back the top of the hamper and leaned
forward eagerly. If his first amazement was utter this was too utter.
He sat bolt upright for a second, then he dived at the basket again.
He poked around in it. He shook it vigorously, but no provisions
miraculously appeared. It was appalling, beyond belief. He took out a
small mirror and regarded himself very carefully, and then solemnly he
nodded. It was none other than himself, his Royal Highness Michael
Palanovitch, and this before him was his Honorable Hamper, but like
old Mother Hubbard's cupboard, it was entirely bare. It