in the tin can.

"This is coffee," he announced. "I thought you said it was ambrose."

"I only wished to see if you would recognize it, my friend," replied the
poetical one politely. "I am highly complimented that you can guess what
it is from its taste."

For several minutes the two ate in silence, passing the tin can back and
forth, and slicing--hacking would be more nearly correct--pieces of meat
from the half-roasted fowl. It was Billy who broke the silence.

"I think," said he, "that you been stringin' me--'bout James and
ambrose."

The other laughed good-naturedly.

"You are not offended, I hope," said he. "This is a sad old world, you
know, and we're all looking for amusement. If a guy has no money to buy
it with, he has to manufacture it."

"Sure, I ain't sore," Billy assured him. "Say, spiel that part again
'bout Penelope with the kisses on her mouth, an' you can kid me till the
cows come home."

The camper by the creek did as Billy asked him, while the latter sat
with his eyes upon the fire seeing in the sputtering little flames the
oval face of her who was Penelope to him.

When the verse was completed he reached forth his hand and took the tin
can in his strong fingers, raising it before his face.

"Here's to--to his Knibbs!" he said, and drank, passing the battered
thing over to his new friend.

"Yes," said the other; "here's to his Knibbs, and--Penelope!"

"Drink hearty," returned Billy Byrne.

The poetical one drew a sack of tobacco from his hip pocket and a
rumpled package of papers from the pocket of his shirt, extending both
toward Billy.

"Want the makings?" he asked.

"I ain't stuck on sponging," said Billy; "but maybe I can get even some
day, and I sure do want a smoke. You see I was frisked. I ain't got
nothin'--they didn't leave me a sou markee."

Billy reached across one end of the fire for the tobacco and cigarette
papers. As he did so the movement bared his wrist, and as the firelight
fell upon it the marks of the steel bracelet showed vividly. In the fall
from the train the metal had bitten into the flesh.

His companion's eyes happened to fall upon the telltale mark. There
was an almost imperceptible raising of the man's eyebrows; but he said
nothing to indicate that he had noticed anything out of the ordinary.

The two smoked on for many minutes without indulging in conversation.
The camper quoted snatches from Service and Kipling, then he came back
to Knibbs, who was