The dapper young man, having accomplished all that he wanted for the present, made no further effort to press his society on Vance, hinting that he also had business to attend to; as indeed he had, but not of the nature he would have his boy acquaintance believe. So they parted at the entrance to the Criterion, Dudley promising to call for him at his hotel at about half-past seven that evening. Kansas City, Kansas, is a wideawake, lively town, and Vance Thornton spent several hours that afternoon wandering about the principal streets, an interested observer of western progress. Promptly at seven-thirty Guy Dudley presented himself at the hotel office and inquired for Vance Thornton. “Are you Mr. Dudley?” asked the clerk. “That’s my name,” said the dapper young man airily. “You will find Mr. Thornton in the reading-room.” “Well, old man,” said Dudley, tapping Vance on the shoulder, where he sat looking over the copy of a current magazine, “I see you’re all ready and waiting. Just put on your coat and we’ll trot along.” Vance donned his light overcoat and the pair left the hotel together. “I s’pose you won’t indulge even to the extent of a cigarette?” said Dudley, pulling out a silver case and tendering it to the lad. “No? All right; bad practice, I know, but it’s one of my follies,” he said lightly as he lit a match and applied a light to a gold-rimmed cylinder of Turkish tobacco. “When one has a quantity of wild oats to sow the quicker he puts ’em under the ground the better,” he added with a laugh. “You appear to be one of the boys,” said Vance, for want of something better to say. “Yes, I make it a point to see my share of life occasionally,” the dapper young man admitted with a grin. “You don’t go around much, do you?” with a slight sneer. “No,” said Vance with a shake of his head. “One needs to keep his wits clear in our line, and I don’t see how that can be done if you stay up three-quarters of the night chasing the elephant.” “Pshaw! When a fellow wakes up in the morning feeling a bit rocky a dose of bromo-seltzer will fetch him around all right. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. If I didn’t take a run out of a night with the boys once in awhile I wouldn’t be worth shucks. You don’t know what you lose, old chap. Still, you’re young yet.” “I believe in enjoying myself in a rational manner, Mr. Dudley,” said Vance. “Drinking and smoking and billiards and card-playing don’t quite fall in with my idea of a good time.” “All right,” remarked Dudley carelessly; “every one to his taste. Well, here we are,” and he turned in at the entrance to Hyde & Beaman’s theater, followed by Vance. Dudley had secured good seats in the orchestra, and as the performance was above the average Vance thoroughly enjoyed it. “You don’t object to having a bite, do you?” asked Guy Dudley after the show. “I don’t usually eat late at night,” replied Vance, “but I have no objection to joining you. Where will we go?”