onscious of the many glances of interest and admiration from the keen
eyes of the officers gathered in laughing groups about the marbled
floor. Not one of their number was his superior in form and feature, and
his uniform was the handiwork of Gotham's best military tailor. _They_
saw that the instant he threw off his cape.

One of their number whispered that it was Mr. Stuyvesant, General
Vinton's aide, for everybody knew Vinton, and more than one would have
been glad to take the aide-de-camp by the hand and bid him welcome to
their coterie but for that same odd shyness that, once away from camp or
garrison and in the atmosphere of metropolitan life, seems to clog and
hamper the kindlier impulses of the soldier.

Presently, as Stuyvesant stood at the desk looking over the register, he
heard himself accosted by name, and turning quickly, hopefully, found to
his disappointment only a stocky little man in civilian dress. Yet the
face was familiar, and the trouble in the honest brown eyes looking up
to him, as though for help and sympathy, went right to his heart. Even
before the man could give his name or tell his need, Stuyvesant knew him
and held out a cordial hand:

"Why! You're our brakeman! I'm glad to see you. What's wrong?"

"I've lost me job, sir," was the answer, with a little choke. "They let
me out two days ago--for sayin' their rotten old car caught fire from
the boxes, I reckon."

"You don't tell me!" exclaimed Stuyvesant in honest indignation. "Now,
how can I help you? What shall we do?"

"Take me to Manila, sir. I don't need this place. There's no one
dependent on me--I can't soldier. They won't 'list a fellow with only
two fingers," and he held up a maimed hand. "Lost the others in a
freight smash-up six years ago. But there's a railway out there that'll
be ours in a few months. Then you'll want Yankee train-hands. Can you
do that much for me, lieutenant?"

"Come to me at The Palace at eight o'clock in the morning," answered
Stuyvesant. "I'll have had a chance to talk to my general by that time.
Meanwhile"--and with a blush he began drawing forth his purse.

The brakeman smiled. "I've got money enough, sir. They paid me off and I
had some put by. Thank you all the same, Mr. Stuyvesant.--Oh, yes, sir,
I'm ready," he broke off suddenly in addressing some other person, and
Stuyvesant, turning quickly to see, was confronted by Lieutenant Ray.

"Oh, how-de-do? Going to be here long?" promptly queried th