“I suppose he could, but he doesn’t know about you.” “Wouldn’t care to, I guess.” “Oh, nonsense, Pete; you’re making a lot out of nothing.” “Dare say he thinks I eat in my shirt-sleeves and swallow my knife,” continued Pete, gloomily. “Maybe he thinks I live on horned toads and grasshoppers.” “But, I tell you, he doesn’t know you.” “I guess he’s heard of me,” answered Pete. “Guess he knew you and Hal and I were traveling together.” “Look here, Pete; if you want to join a club table----” “Oh, _that’s_ all right. Moocha wano club table.” “Oh, all right,” answered Allan, a bit puzzled. “I’m going to join a club table on the 1st,” said Pete. “Oh!” said Allan, again. “What--that is, whose is it?” “Pete Burley’s.” “What! How--how do you mean?” “Mean I’m going to run my own grub-wagon. And I want you to join.” “But-- Look here, Pete, I don’t believe you can find a decent place to take you. Everything’s full up already.” “Where is there a decent place?” asked Pete, calmly. “Well, there’s Pearson’s, of course, but you couldn’t get in there. And----” “Why couldn’t I?” “Because she takes training tables chiefly, and is pretty particular, anyhow.” “Yes, that’s what she told me,” said Pete. “Then you went there?” Pete nodded. “I could have told you you wouldn’t get in there. There’s a pretty good place further along----” “Oh, _that’s_ all right. We start on the 1st.” “Start where?” “Mrs. Pearson’s.” “Pete, you’re lying!” gasped Allan. “No, straight talk. I engaged the front corner room on the second floor. It’s a right nice-looking place: paper on the walls, fireplace, lounge, window-seat----” “But--but how’d you do it?” “Oh, _that’s_ all right. We had a little pow-wow. It’s going to be six a week and no extras.” “You crazy Westerner!” said Allan, in bewildered admiration. Then, “But you haven’t got any one to join, have you?” “Not yet; but _that’ll_ be all right. It’s going to be select, you know; eight in all. There’ll be you and me, that’s two; and Hal----” “I don’t believe he’ll come,” said Allan, doubtfully. “You see, Pete, he’s promised Greb.” “I don’t guess Greb will have a table,” said Pete. “Why not?” “Well, where’s he going to put it?” Allan stared. Then---- “Do you mean that you’ve got Greb’s room?” he exclaimed. “’Twa’n’t his,” answered Pete, coolly. “He hadn’t settled the matter, and so I said I’d take it and put down a forfeit. And there isn’t another decent place for a high-toned, pedigreed chap like him to go to.” “Pete Burley, you’re a wonder!” breathed Allan. “Think Hal will join?” asked Pete, unmoved by the tribute. Allan nodded silently.