g with fire?"

The little man's eyes sparkled and he breathed quickly. He hesitated a
moment with natural caution. Then----

"Yes," he said briefly. "Dash it! I--I feel as if I were beginning to
live!"

Tony laughed and opened the door. The guard sighed.

"Well, gentlemen," he said, "don't say I didn't warn you. Anyhow, I'd
advise you to leave your money behind and your watches, too."

"The man's a perfect Solon," said Tony, feeling in his trousers pocket.
"Here, guard, seven pounds three ... and a watch. If I perish, you may
keep them, but remember that the watch needs winding night and morning."

The guard gazed dumbly at the evening dress. Then he turned to the other
man, "You anything, sir?"

"N--nothing that matters," was the confused reply. "Come on! let's make
a move!"

"Broke!" thought Tony. "But he hasn't tried to touch me yet. What a day
out!"

CHAPTER X

HOW TO DRESS ON NOTHING A YEAR

The two men left the station and began to walk sharply toward the town,
which was close at hand. The first street they entered was deserted, but
evidence of the strike lay open to the shamed sky. Lamps, it is true,
still stood erect, but their glass was shattered; missiles and rubbish
littered the roadway, shop-windows had not a pane left whole, and here
and there makeshift screens of boards replaced or protected the windows.
It was a scene of ruin, complete and piteous. The most curious feature
was that not a soul was in the street: everything was still and lonely.

In the next street a similar spectacle met them--ruin and solitude. In a
third, the same. In a fourth, the same. It was as if a battle had taken
place, or rather as if the town had been sacked and cleared by an
invading army, which had passed on like a destroying angel, leaving
signs of its progress, and signs alone.

"This is deuced odd," was Tony's comment--"deuced odd. The ruin does not
surprise, for everything is possible in this age of Socialism. But is
the spirit of curiosity dead? If so, _that_ will be 'the end of all
things.' Surely everybody can not be murdered or afraid to come out.
Surely we shall light upon at least one brand from the burning--some
pathetic, interesting, interested spectator. If it were but a man drunk
in the gutter...."

"Yes, it's rum," agreed his companion. "But listen! I think I hear a
noise over there to the right. Shall we go and see?"

Tony stopped, friendliness in his heart.

"I think you're right,"