n his hands, prepared to read or doze, as the spirit moved
him.

Mr. Morrison appeared before him.

"Howdy, Bennie! Taking a nap?"

"I'm taking nothing but what's my own." Bennie looked meaningly at
Morrison.

Morrison slipped into what he mistook for Bennie's mood.

"You're wise, if you get it all. Many's the ignorant devil that takes
only what's given him and asks no questions, worse luck to him!"

"You'll do well to go on," remarked Bennie, placidly. "There's many that
gets more, and then damns the gift and the giver."

"And just what might that mean, Bennie?" Morrison looked a little
puzzled.

"It means that, if more got what they deserved, 'twould be better for
honest men." Bennie was very decided.

Morrison's face cleared. He held out his hand.

"Shake!" he said.

Bennie took the proffered hand.

"Here's hoping you'll come to your own!" he remarked, grimly.

The clasped hands each fell to its own. Morrison's hands went to his
pocket as he stretched out his crossed legs with a thankful look on his
face.

"I'm not specially troubled about myself. I've had fairly good luck
looking out for Patrick Morrison, Esq. It's these poor devils around
here that's troubling me. They get nipped and pinched at every turn of
the cards."

"It's God's truth you're talking. And you want to help them same poor
devils?"

"That's what."

"Then listen to me. Smash your roulette and faro. Burn down the Blue
Goose, first taking out your whisky that'll burn only the throats of the
fools who drink it. Do that same, and you'll see fat grow on lean bones,
and children's pants come out of the shade of the patches."

Morrison lifted his hat, scratching his head meditatively.

"That isn't exactly what I'm at."

"Eagles to snowbirds 'tis not!" put in Bennie, aside.

Morrison gave no heed to the interruption.

"Every man has the right to spend his own money in his own way."

"The poor devils get the money and the Blue Goose furnishes the way,"
Bennie again interpolated.

Morrison was getting uneasy. He was conscious that he was not making
headway.

"You can't do but one thing at a time in good shape."

"You're a damned liar! At the Blue Goose you're doing everyone all the
time."

Morrison rose impatiently. The nickel bullets were missing their billet.
He began tentatively to unfold the peacock's tail.

"You see," he said, "it's like this. In union is strength. What makes
the rich richer? Because they hang toget