ays Pinckney, and then he explains about finding Uncle
Aloysius, windin' up by askin' Spotty how he'd like to go up there and
live.

"I don't know," says Spotty. "Good ways off, ain't it!"

"It is, rather," admits Pinckney; "but that need not trouble you. What do
you think I am going to do for you, Spotty?"

"Give it up," says he, calmly lightin' a match and proceedin' with the
smoke.

"Well," says Pinckney, "because of the long and faithful service of your
father, and the many little personal attentions he paid me, I am going to
give you---- Wait! Here it is now," and hanged if Pinckney don't fork
over ten new twenty-dollar bills. "There!" says he. "That ought to be
enough to fit you out well and take you there in good shape. Here's the
address too."

Does Spotty jump up and crack his heels together and sputter out how
thankful he is? Nothin' so strenuous. He fumbles the bills over curious
for a minute, then wads 'em up and jams 'em into his pocket. "Much
obliged," says he.

"Come around to Shorty's with your new clothes on to-morrow afternoon
about four o'clock," says Pinckney, "and let us see how you look.
And--er--by the way, Spotty, is that a friend of yours?"

I'd been noticin' her too, standin' just inside the doorway pipin' us
off. She's a slim, big-eyed, black-haired young woman, dressed in the
height of Grand-st. fashion, and wearin' a lot of odd, cheap lookin'
jewelry. If it hadn't been for the straight nose and the thin lips you
might have guessed that her first name was Rebecca.

"Oh, her?" says Spotty, turnin' languid to see who he meant. "That's
Mareena. Her father runs the shop."

"Armenian?" says I.

"No, Syrian," says he.

"Quite some of a looker, eh?" says I, tryin' to sound him.

"Not so bad," says Spotty, hunchin' his shoulders.

"But--er--do I understand," says Pinckney, "that there is--ah--some
attachment between you and--er--the young lady?"

"Blamed if I know," says Spotty. "Better ask her."

Course, we couldn't very well do that, and as Spotty don't seem bubblin'
over with information he has to chop it off there. Pinckney, though, is
more or less int'rested in the situation. He wonders if he's done just
right, handin' over all that money to Spotty in a place like that.

"It wa'n't what you'd call a shrewd move," says I. "Seems to me I'd
bought his ticket, anyway."

"Yes; but I wanted to get it off my mind, you know," says he. "Odd,
though, his being there. I wonder what so