“Slim? Slimmy t' Match wot Looney here's been tailin' after fer so long?” said the San Diego Kid. “Slim, he was bumped off in Paterson t'ree or four years ago.” “He wasn't neither,” spoke up Looney. “Tex, here, seen him in Chi last mont'.” And, indeed, Tex had told Looney so. But now, thus directly appealed to, Tex answered nothing. And for the first time Looney began to get the vague suspicion that these, his friends, might have trifled with him before. Certainly they were serious now. He looked around the sprawled circle and sensed that their manner was somehow different from the attitude with which they had usually discussed his quest for Slim. “Bumped off?” said Tex. “How?” “A wobbly done it,” said the San Diego Kid. “Slim, he was scabbin'. Strike-breakin'. And they was some wobblies there helpin' on the strike. See? An' this wobbly bumps Slim off.” “He didn't neither,” said Looney again. “T' hell he didn't? He said he did,” said the San Diego Kid pacifically. “Is a guy gonna say he's bumped off a guy unless he's bumped him off?” Looney, somewhat shaken, withdrew from the group to seek comfort from the constellations; and particularly from that big, red star, the apparent king of stars, which he had come to think of as Slim's star, and vaguely, as Slim's mascot. It was brighter and redder than ever that night, Looney thought, and sitting on a discarded railroad tie and staring at the planet, Looney gradually recovered his faith. “He ain't neither been bumped off, Slim ain't,” he muttered, “an' I'm gonna find him yet.” And Slim had not been bumped off, however sincere the San Diego Kid may have been in his belief. It was some months later that Looney did find him in a little city in Pennsylvania--or found some one that looked like him. Looney had dropped from a freight train early in the morning, had rustled himself some grub, had eaten two good meals and had part of a day's sleep, and now, just as dark was coming on, and the street lamps were being lighted, was loafing aimlessly on the platform of the railway depot. He purposed to take a train south that night, when it became so dark that he could crawl into an empty in the yards without too much danger of being seen and he was merely putting in the time until full night came on. While he was standing idly so, an automobile drew up beside the station platform and an elegantly dressed and slender man of about thirty got out. He assisted from the car a woman and a small child, and they made toward the door of the waiting room. “Slim!” cried Looney, rushing forward. For this was Slim--it must be Slim--it was Slimmy the Match in every feature--and yet, the car!--the clothes--the woman--the baby--the prosperity----- _Was_ it Slim? “Slim!” cried Looney again, his heart leaping in his meager body. “It's me, Slim! It's Looney! I've got youse again, Slim! Gawd! I've found yuh!” The woman hastily snatched the child up into her arms, with a suppressed scream, and recoiled.