Mr. McLean entered Smith’s Palace, and, engaging a room with two beds in it, did a little delicate lying by means of the truth. “It’s a lost boy—a runaway,” he told the clerk. “He’ll not be extra clean, I expect, if he does come. Maybe he’ll give me the slip, and I’ll have a job cut out to-morrow. I’ll thank yu’ to put my money in your safe.” [Illustration: Border] The clerk placed himself at the disposal of the secret service, and Lin walked up and down, looking at the railroad photographs for some ten minutes, when Master Billy peered in from the street. “Hello!” said Mr. McLean, casually, and returned to a fine picture of Pike’s Peak. Billy observed him for a space, and, receiving no further attention, came stepping along. “I’m not a-going back to Laramie,” he stated, warningly. “I wouldn’t,” said Lin. “It ain’t half the town Denver is. Well, good-night. Sorry yu’ couldn’t call sooner—I’m dead sleepy.” “O-h!” Billy stood blank. “I wish I’d shook the darned old show. Say, lemme black your boots in the morning?” [Illustration: Border] “Not sure my train don’t go too early.” “I’m up! I’m up! I get around to all of ’em.” “Where do yu’ sleep?” “Sleeping with the engine-man now. Why can’t you put that on me to-night?” “Goin’ up-stairs. This gentleman wouldn’t let yu’ go up-stairs.” But the earnestly petitioned clerk consented, and Billy was the first to hasten into the room. He stood rapturous while Lin buckled the belt round his scanty stomach, and ingeniously buttoned the suspenders outside the accoutrement to retard its immediate descent to earth. “Did it ever kill a man?” asked Billy, touching the six-shooter. [Illustration: Border] “No. It ’ain’t never had to do that, but I expect maybe it’s stopped some killin’ me.” “Oh, leave me wear it just a minute! Do you collect arrow-heads? I think they’re bully. There’s the finest one you ever seen.” He brought out the relic, tightly wrapped in paper, several pieces. “I foun’ it myself, camping with father. It was sticking in a crack right on top of a rock, but nobody’d seen it till I came along. Ain’t it fine?” Mr. McLean pronounced it a gem. “Father an’ me found a lot, an’ they made mother mad lying around, an’ she throwed ’em out. She takes stuff from Kelley’s.” “Who’s Kelley?” [Illustration: Border] “He keeps the drug-store at Laramie. Mother gets awful funny. That’s how she was when I came home. For I told Mr. Perkins he lied, an’ I ran then. An’ I knowed well enough she’d lick me when she got through her spell—an’ father can’t stop her, an’ I—ah, I was sick of it! She’s lamed me up twice beating me—an’ Perkins wanting me to say ‘God bless my mother!’ a-getting up and a-going to bed—he’s a flubdub! An’ so I cleared out. But I’d just as leaves said for God to bless father—an’ you. I’ll do it now if you say it’s any sense.” Mr. McLean sat down in a chair. “Don’t yu’ do it now,” said he. [Illustration: Border]