inute, will you?"

"No," wearily, "I won't mind."

"You 'll promise not to go away?"

She shook her head, her eyes staring dully into the mist.

"No; I won't go away. Where could I go?"

Scarcely satisfied, yet feeling obliged to take the chance, I stepped
within, and advanced across the room toward the man at the cashier's
desk. He glanced up curiously as I approached, and spoke low, so as
not to attract the attention of others.

"Pardner, is my credit good for two meals?" I asked genially. "I guess
you 've seen me in here before--I drive for the Wooster Lumber
Company." A night cashier in that neighborhood becomes early
habituated to tales of hard luck. It requires but a few lessons to
render suspicion paramount. The round-faced man, all geniality
vanished, stared directly into my face.

"Oh, yes, I 've seen you before, I reckon," he acknowledged
noncommitally. "But that does n't necessarily mean we are ready to do
a credit business. Been fired?"

"No; just happen to be short of cash, and need to eat. I 'll hand it
to you tomorrow."

"I 've heard that song before. I reckon you 'll have to try your luck
somewhere else, unless you 've got the price."

"That's the last word, is it?"

"Sure thing," indifferently. "Nothing doing."

Realizing the utter uselessness of argument, or of exhibiting my large
bills, I reached inside my coat, unpinned, and held before him on the
desk a bronze medal, fastened to a colored ribbon.

"Well, is this good for the price?" I questioned. "There 's two of us."

The round-faced cashier bent forward to look, his eyes widening with
aroused interest. Then he glanced up inquiringly into my face.

"Yours?" he asked in open suspicion.

"Ought to be; cost me a Mauser bullet, a dozen bolo cuts, and eight
weeks' hospital."

The cashier was visibly impressed, turning the medal over in his hands.

"So! Where was all this?"

"Down in a rice paddy; place called Baliancan."

"What regiment?"

"Third Cavalry."

The cashier's black eyes flashed, and he extended a cordial hand.

"Put her there, Amigo," he broke forth warmly. "Lord! but maybe I
don't remember! Say, but you fellows were a husky lot o' bucks. Knew
ye? I rather guess I did. I was bunkin' then with the First Nebraska.
Sure, I 'll stand ye for the meal. Put back yer plaything, and bring
in yer pardner--this spread is on the house. The Third Cavalry has
divided chuck with me mor'n once, an' I ain't