“Come on, kid, don’t be a sap and ruin all your chances because you happen to be in the dumps just now!” This entreaty had no more effect upon the boy than the others. He continued to sit on the edge of the cot without speaking, gazing at the floor as he toyed with the papers he was holding in his hands. “Lefty, you ain’t goin’ down there, are you, kid?” Panama questioned with deep concern. “What do you say, soldier? You ain’t goin’ to that filthy joint and get in a jam with a lot of dirty, brown-skinned molls what ain’t worth it, are you?” The boy brushed Panama’s hand from off his shoulder, rose and without offering a reply, dropped his hat on the cot behind him and slowly unbuttoned his coat, making no attempt to conceal his adversity to this procedure. Panama, in turn, was overjoyed over the boy’s easy submission to his will and began an attempt to lift him out of the dumps by pulling off his tie and mussing his hair. Lefty held out as long as he could, then unable to continue his indifference toward the man whom he loved as a brother, he responded to the sergeant’s rough-house foolery by knocking off Panama’s hat and pulling his tie. This was exactly the state of mind Williams had been striving to pull the boy into and he went for Lefty with all of the playful enthusiasm he possessed. In a moment, the two men were rolling over the floor, in typical soldier fashion, laughing lustily as they pulled at each other’s clothes. After he had forcibly undressed the boy and once more brought him around to his usual happy frame of mind, Panama rose, breathing hard, his cheeks flushed from the friendly encounter and his eyes flashing with enthusiasm. “You got me in a fine shape to see my girl,” he said as he began to straighten out his ruffled uniform and brush back his hair. Lefty picked up a shoe and threw it at him with Williams just ducking in time as he picked up his hat and ran out. In a moment he was back again, watching the boy straighten things up around the tent. “You ain’t goin’ out, are you, kid?” “Didn’t I tell you I wasn’t?” “Sure, only I wanted to be positive, that’s all,” Panama explained with a ring of apology in his voice. “Guys like us, trying to be somebody in this here flyin’ racket, shouldn’t bother with women anyway.” “I guess you’re right,” Phelps agreed, though secretly amused. “Sure I am!” Panama reiterated, and then remembering what he came back into the tent for, asked somewhat sheepishly, “say, you ain’t got five bucks till pay day, have you?” “Sure!” Lefty replied, reaching into his wallet and bringing forth a bill. “What do you want it for?” Panama was at first reluctant to reply as Lefty watched him, amusedly, then at length, after pocketing the money, he managed to say: “Well—er—I don’t like to meet Elinor when I’m broke. You know how it is with the dames—they get such a funny idea of a guy when he ain’t got any dough. Play safe, that’s my motto, kid!” CHAPTER XIII