gh of the boy who
aspired to be a man. Far away on a hillside a dog was barking at the
mystery of night. Near by a mocking-bird, in a cage, was singing out
of the melodious fullness of his heart. The muser felt two distinct
senses, one that a sweet voice had touched the quick of his nature,
the other that he had been grandiloquent in his talk while looking at
the stars. She had threatened to destroy herself. No, she would not do
that. She could but shrink from it if the time should come. But to
resolve upon it, driven by a father who could not understand her, was
so girlishly natural, so complete a bit of romantic despair, that she
must have found it a source of great consolation.

Warren was waiting. "I'll bet you didn't bring a cigar," he said,
tossing a cob pipe on the table.

"You've lost," Lyman replied, rolling out a handful of cigars upon a
pile of newspapers.

Warren reached over, his eyes snapping. "Gold bands," he said. "Oh, I
knew you would bring them if they were to be had. You are all right,
Samuel," he added, striking a match. "Yes, sir, but I have been
sitting up here, almost envious of the good time you were having.
However, I was not sorry that I had not faced the Hon. S. Boyd. He
frowned at me the last time we met. I can stand to be dunned once in
awhile, but I don't like to be frowned at. Did he say anything about
the money I owe him?"

"Well," said Lyman, leaning back in his chair, "the subject was
mentioned."

"What, the old skinflint! Did he blurt it out before everybody?"

"No. He talked to me privately."

"Well, I am glad he had that much consideration. But why did he want
to speak of it at all? I suppose you told him I'd pay it as soon as I
could, didn't you?"

"Yes, I told him so."

"Well, then, what more does he want? No man can pay a debt before he
can. There are in this town some of the queerest people I ever saw.
They expect a man to pay a debt whether he's got the money or not.
I'll pay that fellow and tire him to death with meeting him afterward.
I'll cross the street a dozen times a day to shake hands with him.
Yes, sir, I'll make him wish that I owed him."

"He sent you this," said Lyman, handing over the five dollars.

Warren's eyes flew wide open with astonishment. "Sent it to me?"

"Yes, he wants two hundred copies of our next edition. One hundred to
discharge the old debt, and the five dollars is to pay for the other
hundred."

"Lyman, you rubbed the lamp. Don't ru