hen held out a
two-dollar bill.

"Is that about right for the performance?" he said "is that about right?"

"Ja, mein Herr," said the man, nodding vociferously.

"I want to pay what's right--I want to pay what's right," said Jethro.

"I thank you very much, sir," said the leader, finding his English, "you
haf pay for all."

"P-paid for everything--everything to-night?" demanded Jethro.

The leader spread out his hands.

"You haf pay for one whole evening," said he, and bowed again.

"Then take it, take it," said Jethro, pushing the bill into the man's
palm; "but don't you come back to-night--don't you come back to-night."

The amazed leader stared at Jethro--and words failed him. There was
something about this man that compelled him to obey, and he gathered up
his followers and led the way silently out of the hotel. Roars of
laughter and applause arose on all sides; but Jethro was as one who heard
them not as he made his way back to his seat again.

"You did a good job, my friend," said Mr. Beard, approvingly. "I'm going
to take Eph Prescott down the street to see some of the boys. Won't you
come, too?"

Mr. Beard doubtless accepted it as one of the man's eccentricities that
Jethro did not respond to him, for without more ado he departed arm in
arm with Ephraim. Jethro was looking at Cynthia, who was staring toward
the desk at the other end of the corridor, her face flushed, and her
fingers closed over the arms of her chair. It never occurred to Jethro
that she might have been embarrassed.

"W-what's the matter, Cynthy?" he asked, sinking into the chair beside
her.

Her breath caught sharply, but she tried to smile at him. He did not
discover what was the matter until long afterward, when he recalled that
evening to mind. Jethro was a man used to hotel corridors, used to
sitting in an attitude that led the unsuspecting to believe he was half
asleep; but no person of note could come or go whom he did not remember.
He had seen the distinguished party arrive at the desk, preceded by a
host of bell-boys with shawls and luggage. On the other hand, some of the
distinguished party had watched the proceeding of paying off the band
with no little amusement. Miss Janet Duncan had giggled audibly, her
mother had smiled, while her father and Mr. Worthington had pretended to
be deeply occupied with the hotel register. Somers was not there. Bob
Worthington laughed heartily with the rest until his eye, travelling down