ng
in and shouted, "Sorry, sah! Done forgot to call you sooner. Corinth!"

Both Jim and his fellow traveler jumped to their feet and hastened out.
Jimmy saw that the card was that of "Mr. Charles W. Martin, Suites
105-7-9-11 Z, Flat Iron Bldg., New York. Specialist in everything
pertaining to power plants."

Out on the platform Martin asked, "Where do you stop here in Corinth,
Mr. Gollop?"

"At the City Hotel," said Jimmy. "Good sample rooms there. Good grub.
Good beds."

"I think I'll go there, too," said Martin, and together they entered the
hotel bus and were driven away.

As usual Jimmy was welcomed by his first name, and informed that there
was some mail there for him. When he looked around from its perusal
Martin had disappeared and he did not meet him again until he was seated
in a corner of the restaurant alone, when a voice behind him said, "Hope
you don't mind if I join you, Mr. Gollop," and looked up to see his
traveling companion.

"Not at all, Mr. Martin," he replied. "Always glad to have good company.
I'm a sociable sort of cuss myself. I detest traveling alone, eating
alone, or loafing alone. I suppose I'm gregarious."

A troubled, thoughtful shadow chased itself over the elder man's face,
as he said, with a half-sigh, "I understand. It's not good for a man to
be alone. And the older he becomes, the more he feels lonesomeness, and
the more he wants--home!"

The word was the magic one for Jimmy. Somehow that word always moved him
and brought out his great undercurrent.

"Why, do you know," he said, leaning across the table with shining eyes,
"if I didn't have a home to go to, always, after I've made my round,
I'd be like a horse that had been robbed of his stall? I live for it! I
work for it! I look forward to it all the time! But you see, I'm
different than most men. Luckier, I think, because my mother's there!
And if I didn't have a thing in the world but her, I'd be rich. And if I
had everything else but her, I'd be poor! I'm mighty proud of my home
and my mother. I shall be leaving here for home to-morrow afternoon,"
continued Jimmy. "After I've hustled around and seen about a dozen
customers. Being a drummer and having a craze for home, are two pretty
tough propositions to combine. But--what would home be without
chocolates? Why, do you know, I don't think I'd have been able to have a
home at all without 'em! By chocolates Maw and I live or die. Funny,
isn't it, that if there was an earthq