"A degenerate race," muttered Chalmers. "At the first sign of daylight we scamper off to bed like scared rabbits. For me--thank God--there's nothing like the glorious sunrise, the crisp air, the healthy glow. There's magic in it--Nature's choicest gift. Yes, sir, the splendors of dawn for me! D'you s'pose I'd miss _this_?" He glared about the room and ecstatically sniffed the thick, smoky air. "What does that clod know of beauty?" He indicated a waiter, dozing against the wall with practiced equilibrium. "Well, well," exclaimed Baldwin, "if I haven't gone and forgotten to eat breakfast! How shiftless!" He aroused the waiter with snapping fingers. "I hope we're not keeping you up, Claude, but bacon and eggs, please, and coffee." An hour later they went out to find the street already alive with early workers. Baldwin appeared to consider that these, also, were night-long revelers. "'Stonishing how they can keep it up, night after night," he remarked, frowning in wonder at the early procession. "You'd think they'd _have_ to sleep some time." "It'll tell on their nerves sooner or later, you mark my words," said Griggs sententiously. Chalmers stared intently into the window of a florist adjoining the restaurant. He turned to them with purpose in his fair face and spoke again of his art editor. "Only trouble with him--he's passed away, poor fellow, and doesn't know it. He ought to be told--but not brutally. I see something here for him." He came out of the florist's presently with a sizable emblem of mortality--a floral pillow with "Rest" worked on it in immortelles. "Come on!" At the corner they crowded into hansoms. It was a long ride, and Ewing was asleep when they reached Park Row, but they aroused him to help escort Chalmers and his offering to the elevator of a mighty building. While they awaited his return Baldwin bethought him of his own art editor. He seemed to believe that something fitting might be done. After deep reflection he crossed the narrow street to a district messenger office, to emerge a moment later followed by eight grinning messenger boys. These he led to the elevator of another building near by. Chalmers returned from his own mission, wiping his eyes. "Poor fellow, he knows he's dead now. But I broke down and sobbed like a child when I gave it to him--I'm all heart. It's over now, all but the life insurance. And yet he didn't thank me. On the contrary he spoke language I should blush to repeat." The others put on looks of chastened gloom and were speaking in hushed tones of the sad event when Baldwin returned. He dismissed his uniformed attendants with largesse.