s well. He had the air of wearing it as a matter of course
and with careless ease, but that was only an air--it was the apple of
his eye.

For the rest, his costume was neutral, subordinate, and even a little
neglected in the matter of a detail or two: one pointed flap of his soft
collar was held down by a button, but the other showed a frayed thread
where the button once had been; his low patent-leather shoes were of a
luster not solicitously cherished, and there could be no doubt that he
needed to get his hair cut, while something might have been done, too,
about the individualized hirsute prophecies which had made independent
appearances, here and there, upon his chin. He examined these from time
to time by the sense of touch, passing his hand across his face and
allowing his finger-tips a slight tapping motion wherever they detected
a prophecy.

Thus he fell into a pleasant musing and seemed to forget the crowded
street.

II

THE UNKNOWN

He was roused by the bluff greeting of an acquaintance not dissimilar to
himself in age, manner, and apparel.

"H'lo, Silly Bill!" said this person, William Sylvanus Baxter. "What's
the news?"

William showed no enthusiasm; on the contrary, a frown of annoyance
appeared upon his brow. The nickname "Silly Bill"--long ago compounded
by merry child-comrades from "William" and "Sylvanus"--was not to his
taste, especially in public, where he preferred to be addressed simply
and manfully as "Baxter." Any direct expression of resentment, however,
was difficult, since it was plain that Johnnie Watson intended no
offense whatever and but spoke out of custom.

"Don't know any," William replied, coldly.

"Dull times, ain't it?" said Mr. Watson, a little depressed by his
friend's manner. "I heard May Parcher was comin' back to town yesterday,
though."

"Well, let her!" returned William, still severe.

"They said she was goin' to bring a girl to visit her," Johnnie began in
a confidential tone. "They said she was a reg'lar ringdinger and--"

"Well, what if she is?" the discouraging Mr. Baxter interrupted. "Makes
little difference to ME, I guess!"

"Oh no, it don't. YOU don't take any interest in girls! OH no!"

"No, I do not!" was the emphatic and heartless retort. "I never saw one
in my life I'd care whether she lived or died!"

"Honest?" asked Johnnie, struck by the conviction with which this speech
was uttered. "Honest, is that so?"

"Yes, 'honest'!" William repli