avat upon my neck, "but your white tie is slipping around under
your ear again." And as we walked, I was sure that I saw an opera hat
under his arm, though sober reason convinced me that we both were
wearing overalls, and not evening clothes.

"But did you notice," said Curly, after a while, "Tom, he's holdin' out
on us. That there music, it's all tangled up in my hair." He removed
his hat and ran a questioning hand through the matted tangle on his
curly front. "But," he resumed, "there was one piece he didn't play.
I seen him slip it under the blankets on the bed."

"How could he!" said Dan Anderson. But memories sufficient came
trooping upon him to cause him to forget. He fell to whistling "La
Donna e Mobile" dreamily.

CHAPTER X

ART AT HEART'S DESIRE

_How Tom Osby, Common Carrier, caused Trouble with a Portable Annie
Laurie_

The shadows of night had fallen when at length Tom Osby crept
stealthily to his door and looked around. The street seemed deserted
and silent, as usual. Tom Osby stepped to the side of the bed and
withdrew from under the blankets the bit of gutta-percha which Curly
had noticed him conceal. He adjusted the record in the machine and
sprung the catch. Then he sat and listened, intent, absorbed,
hearkening to the wonderful voice of one of the world's great
contraltos. It was an old, old melody she sang,--the song of "Annie
Laurie."

Tom Osby played it over again. He sat and listened, as he had, night
after night, in the moonlight on the long trail from Las Vegas down.
The face of a strong and self-repressed man is difficult to read. It
does not change lightly under any passing emotion. Tom Osby's face
perhaps looked even harder than usual, as he sat there listening, his
unlit pipe clenched hard between his hands. Truant to his trusts,
forgetful of the box of candy which regularly he brought down from
Vegas to the Littlest Girl, Curly's wife; forgetful of many messages,
commercial and social,--forgetful even of us, his sworn cronies,--Tom
Osby sat and listened to a voice which sang of a Face that was the
Fairest, and of a Dark blue Eye.

[Illustration: "A voice which sang of a Face that was the Fairest, and
of a Dark blue Eye."]

The voice sang and sang again, until finally four conspirators once
more approached Tom Osby's cabin. He had forgotten his supper. Dinner
was done, in Heart's Desire, soon after noon. Dan Anderson stood
thoughtful for a time.

"Let hi