f. One jerk at the visor of his
cap brought it down over his eyes and covered his face with shadow; a
single shrug bunched the ragged coat high around his shoulders, and the
shoulders themselves he allowed to drop forward. With his hands in his
pockets he glided slowly across the room toward the bar, for all the
world a picture of the guttersnipe who had been kicked from pillar to
post until self-respect is dead in him. And pausing in his advance, he
leaned against one of the pillars and looked hungrily toward the bar.

He was immediately hailed from behind the bar with: "Hey, you. No tramps
in here. Pay and stay in Lebrun's!"

The command brought an immediate protest. A big fellow stepped from the
bar, his sombrero pushed to the back of his head, his shirt sleeves
rolled to the elbow away from vast hairy forearms. One of his long arms
swept out and brought Donnegan to the bar.

"I ain't no prophet," declared the giant, "but I can spot a man that's
dry. What'll you have, bud?" And to the bartender he added: "Leave him
be, pardner, unless you're all set for considerable noise in here."

"Long as his drinks are paid for," muttered the bartender, "here he
stays. But these floaters do make me tired!"

He jabbed the bottle across the bar at Donnegan and spun a glass noisily
at him, and the "floater" observed the angry bartender with a frightened
side glance, and then poured his drink gingerly. When the glass was half
full he hesitated and sought the face of the bartender again, for
permission to go on.

"Fill her up!" commanded the giant. "Fill her up, lad, and drink
hearty."

"I never yet," observed the bartender darkly, "seen a beggar that wasn't
a hog."

At this Donnegan's protector shifted his belt so that the holster came a
little more forward on his thigh.

"Son," he said, "how long you been in these parts?"

"Long enough," declared the other, and lowered his black brows. "Long
enough to be sick of it."

"Maybe, maybe," returned the cowpuncher-miner, "meantime you tie to
this. We got queer ways out here. When a gent drinks with us he's our
friend. This lad here is my pardner, just now. If I was him I would of
knocked your head off before now for what you've said--"

"I don't want no trouble," Donnegan said whiningly.

At this the bartender chuckled, and the miner showed his teeth in his
disgust.

"Every gent has got his own way," he said sourly. "But while you drink
with Hal Stern you drink with your