couple of weeks or so ago Ed
told me he was goin' to put up a hall or something where the boys, as he
called them, could have a dance or a slugging match, or a show,--any old
thing, in fact, that came along in the way of diversion and amusement."

"Say, boss," said Handy, somewhat puzzled, "are you serious or are you
stringin' me?"

"I don't understand."

"We start even, then, for blow me if I understand you."

"Please explain yourself."

"I'll do my plainest!"

"Skip the prelims and get down to facts. I ask you to point out the hall
we're to give the show in, and you treat me to a ghost story about some
fellow named Ed McGowan who thinks about putting up one where the boys
can have a dance, see a show, take part in a slugging match or indulge
in any other eccentricities too superfluous to enumerate. I confess I
have been on many wild-goose chases in my somewhat long and varied
career, but this takes the gingerbread. Now let me ask you frankly, is
there a hall at all, at all, in the place?"

"I don't know."

"Great Caesar's ghost! What? Don't know? Say, is there an Ed McGowan,
then? Boss, I'm growin' desperate," and the veteran looked as if he was.

"Sure there is," replied the landlord, with a laugh.

"Then for the Lord's sake lead me out of this wilderness of doubt into
his presence."

Not another word was spoken until they crossed the threshold of Ed
McGowan's barroom. It differed little from other places of its class,
save that it had a bigger stove, a greater number of chairs, a more
extensive counter for business purposes, and a more extensive display of
glassware reflected in the mammoth mirror.

"Hello, hello, Weston, old fellow! Glad to see you!" was the salutation
that rang out in a cheery voice after the newcomers had made their
entry. "What in thunder brings you up to these diggin's?"

McGowan had a playful little way of addressing his friends by the name
of the places from which they hailed. He was a good specimen of man, and
could tip the scales at two hundred. Above middle height, he was a big,
broad-shouldered, deep-chested, bow-windowed, good-natured kind of
chap--one who would travel a long distance to do a good turn for a
friend and travel equally far to get square with a foe. At the time of
the entrance of the theatrical projectors, big Ed was vigorously
employed in getting something like a shine or polish on the top of his
bar.

"Just a minute an' I'll be with you," said the big fe