Dick tilted back and lazily blew a soft cloud into the air. Uncle Bobbie arose and placed the coal bucket between them. "Told mother last night I was gettin' too fat again--but it made me sick last time I tried it--I wonder if it would make me sick now."--A longer pause than usual followed--then: "It's really dangerous for me to get so fat, and smokin' 's the only thing that keeps it down. D'ye reckon it would make me sick again?" He drew a cigar from his pocket, almost as big as a cannon fire-cracker and fully as dangerous. "I got this t'day. Looks like a pretty good one. It didn't use to make me sick 'fore I quit the last time." Dick handed him a match and two minutes later the big cigar was burning as freely as its nature would permit. "What an awful wasteful habit it is to-be-sure, ain't it?" went on the old gentleman between vigorous puffs. "Just think, there's school books, and Bibles and baby clothes and medicine for the sick, and food for the hungry, and houses and stores, and farms, and cattle, all a' goin' up in that smoke;" he pointed with his cigar to the blue cloud that hung between them. "If I had half the money church members burn, I could take care of every old worn-out preacher in the world, and have a good bit left over for the poor children. I wisht I was as young as you be; I'd quit it fer good; but it sure does take a hold on an old feller like me." Dick's face grew thoughtful. "I never looked at it in that way before," he said, as he took his pipe from his mouth; "It's a big comfort to a chap who is all alone, though I suppose it does get a strong hold on a man who has used it most of his life; and a fellow could do a lot of good with the money it costs him." He arose to his feet and went to the window, where he stood for a moment looking out into the rain. Presently he came back to his chair again; "Look out," cried Uncle Bobbie, as Dick took his seat, "You've dropped your pipe into the coal bucket." "Oh, that's all right; its worn-out anyway, and I have another." But he smoked no more that evening. "Where are you from?" asked Wicks abruptly. "Everywhere," answered Dick, shortly, for he did not relish the thought of being questioned about his past. "Where you goin'?" came next from his companion. "Nowhere," just as short. "Folks livin'?" "No." "How long been dead?" "Since I was a little fellow." "Ain't you got no relations?" "Don't want any if they're like an aunt of mine." Uncle Bobbie nodded in sympathy. "How'd you happen to strike this place?" Dick told him in three words, "Lookin' for work." "Udell's a mighty fine fellow." "You're right he is." "Not much of a Christian though." And the old man watched Dick keenly through the cloud of smoke. "No, good thing for me he isn't," the young man answered bitterly, his face and voice betraying his feelings.