us to clap my eyes on him. I's
been gittin' on right sma't dese las' two yeahs, an' my ol' ooman she
daid an' gone, an' I kin' o' lonesome, so I jes' p'omised mysef dis
Crismus de gif' of a sight o' Zach. Hit do look foolish fu' a man ez
ol' ez me to be a runnin' 'roun' de worl' a spen'in' money dis away,
but hit do seem so ha'd to git Zach home."

"How long are you going to be with us?"

"Well, I 'specs to stay all o' Crismus week."

"Maybe--" began one of the men. But Turner interrupted him. "This
gentleman is my guest. Uncle," turning to the old man, "do you
ever--would you--er. I've got some pretty good liquor here, ah--"

Zach's father smiled a sly smile. "I do' know, suh," he said,
crossing his leg high. "I's Baptis' mys'f, but 'long o' dese Crismus
holidays I's right fond of a little toddy."

A half dozen eager men made a break for the bar, but Turner's uplifted
hand held them. He was an autocrat in his way.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," he said, "but I think I remarked some time ago
that Mr. Shackelford was my guest." And he called the waiter.

All the men had something and tapped rims with the visitor.

"'Pears to me you people is mighty clevah up hyeah; 'tain' no wondah
Zachariah don' wan' to come home."

Just then they heard a loud whoop outside the door, and a voice broke
in upon them singing thickly, "Oh, this spo'tin' life is surely
killin' me." The men exchanged startled glances. Turner looked at
them, and there was a command in his eye. Several of them hurried out,
and he himself arose, saying: "I've got to go out for a little while,
but you just make yourself at home, uncle. You can lie down right
there on that sofa and push that button there--see, this way--if you
want some more toddy. It shan't cost you anything."

"Oh, I'll res' myself, but I ain' gwine sponge on you dat away. I got
some money," and the old man dug down into his long pocket. But his
host laid a hand on his arm.

"Your money's no good up here."

"Wh--wh--why, I thought dis money passed any whah in de Nunited
States!" exclaimed the bewildered old man.

"That's all right, but you can't spend it until we run out."

"Oh! Why, bless yo' soul, suh, you skeered me. You sho' is clevah."

Turner went out and came upon his emissaries, where they had halted
the singing Zach in the hallway, and were trying to get into his
muddled brain that his father was there.

"Wha'sh de ol' man doin' at de 'Banner,' gittin' gay in his ol' days?