“He’s a fellow I used to know pretty well,” Jim went on. “He--we used to live close together and he was always mighty good to me when I was a little codger. He’s been having trouble lately; out of work and the like of that, Clem; and he’s sort of lost hold, I guess. I ran across him yesterday afternoon on State street. He was looking for me to get a little money to carry him along. I gave him three dollars and a half. That’s all I had. That’s why I had to ask you for that five dollars just now.” “I see. But that chap doesn’t expect you to lend him money right along, I hope. Eight dollars in two days is fairly steep, isn’t it?” Jim nodded. “He said yesterday he was going to Norwalk. Said he had a job promised him there. But it seems he didn’t have enough money left this morning for his ticket. So he wanted me to lend him some more.” “Well, that’s all right,” said Clem. “Let’s hope he gets his job. To speak right out in meeting, Jim, I didn’t like his looks much, and his hands didn’t seem to me to show many signs of hard and honest labor. Also, if you’ll pardon me for seeming disrespect to a friend of yours--or, let us say, acquaintance--I thought I detected an aroma about him that--well, it wasn’t exactly the odor of sanctity, Jim.” “Yes, I noticed it, too,” replied Jim sadly. “I guess he’s been sort of up against things and--and discouraged, Clem. He’s had no job for more than a month, he says. But I made him promise me he’d behave if I let him have that five. And I guess he will. He used to be such a nice fellow, Clem!” “Too bad,” said Clem sympathetically. “Lost his grip, I suppose. Well, maybe he’ll land on his feet again. I dare say it’s not any too easy to keep straight, Jim, when you’re on your uppers. Don’t you think of paying back that five, old son, until you get it back from that fellow, no matter if it’s ten years from now. I don’t need it.” “Thanks, but I’d rather pay it as soon as I get my allowance,” Jim protested. “That’ll be about ten days from now.” “You’re a stubborn old Maineiac,” said Clem sadly, “but have your own way about it. Meanwhile, has it occurred to you that the time is twelve minutes past six and that if we want food we’d better get a move on us? Of course, you, being on the training table, don’t need to worry so much, but where I battle for sustenance it’s a case of first come, first get it! And,” added Clem, waving a towel as he made for the door, “there are those at my table who have no conscience at all where another man’s butter is concerned!” CHAPTER XI THE ART OF LINE PLAYING