Night had fallen long ere this; when Ben arose the room was in darkness, save for the reflected light which came through the heavily curtained windows from the street lamps. He turned on an electric bulb and made a hasty toilet. In doing so his eye fell upon the two big revolvers within the drawer of the dresser; and the same impulse that had caused him to bring them into this land of civilization made him thrust them into his hip pockets. It was more habit than anything else, just as a man with a dog friend feels vaguely uncomfortable unless his pet is with him. Blair had the vigorously recurring appetite of a healthy animal, and it suddenly occurred to him that he had not yet dined. Descending to the street, he sought a _cafe_ and ate a hearty meal. A half-hour later, the elevator boy of the Metropolitan Block, where Sidwell had his quarters, was surprised, on answering the indicator, to find a young man in an abnormally broad hat and flannel shirt awaiting him. The youth was of vivid imagination, and knowing that a Wild West troupe was performing in town, one glance at Ben's hat, his suspicions became certainty. "Eleventh floor," he announced, when the passenger had told his destination; then as the car moved upward he gathered courage and looked the rancher fair in the eye. "Say, Mister," he ventured, "give me a pass to the show, will you?" For an instant Ben looked blank; then he understood, and his hand sought his trousers' pocket. "Sorry," he explained, "but I don't happen to have any with me. Will this do instead?" and he produced a half-dollar. The boy brought the car deftly to a stop within a half-inch of the level of the desired floor. "Thank you. Mr. Sidwell--straight ahead, and turn to the left down the short hall," he said obligingly. Blair stepped out, saying, "Don't fail to be around to-morrow when I do my stunt." With open-mouthed admiration the boy watched the frontiersman's long free stride--a movement that struck the floor with the springiness of a cat, very different from the flat-footed jar of pedestrians on paved streets. "I won't!" he called after him. "I'd rather see't than a dozen ball-games! I'll look for you, Mister!"