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 ing man who wore his dinner clothes as though, contrary to fact, he had appeared in them every night of his life. He was very boyish looking yet, in spite of the lines which told of eight years of labor and struggle and final achievement. Wade Forbes, like his companion, was tanned by sun and wind, and his hands, one of which held the check which the waiter had just presented, although well manicured, bore evidence of toil with pick and shovel, sledge and drill. His face, expressing at once resolution and good temper, was clean shaven, his hair was dark and a pair of calm and steady brown eyes answered his partner's smile.

"Dave, you're getting reckless," he said.

"Huh!" Dave gulped down an oath. "If I lived in this town I reckon I wouldn't have a red at the end of the month. It sure does appeal to your generous nature, Wade. Seems like I coudn't keep my hands out of my pockets here." He glanced about him over the crowded room; the hanging baskets of ferns, the leaf-hidden