“Too much of a hurry to leave out the bark when you ask a favour? I make change out of courtesy. And you all bark at me Nickel! Nickel! as if that was my job.” “A thousand apologies!”--contritely. “And don't make it any worse by suggesting a movie after supper. My mother never lets me go out after dark.” “I rather fancy she's quite sensible. Still, you seem able to take care of yourself. I might suggest--” “With that black eye? Nay, nay! I'll bet somebody's brother gave it to you.” “Venus was not on that occasion in ascendancy. Thank you for the change.” Hawksley swung on his heel and reentered the booth. A great weariness oppressed him. A longing, almost irresistible, came to him to go out and cry aloud: “Here I am! Kill me! I am tired and done!” For he had recognized the purchaser of the cigars as one of the men who had left the 125th Street Station at the same time as he. He remembered distinctly that this man had been in a hurry. Perhaps the whole dizzy affair was reacting upon his imagination psychologically and turning harmless individuals into enemies. “Hello!” said a man's voice over the wire. “Is Mr. Rathbone there?” “Captain Rathbone is with his regiment at Coblenz, sir.” “Coblenz?” “Yes, sir. I do not expect his return until near midsummer, sir. Who is this talking?” “Have you opened a cable from Yokohama?” “This is Mr. Hawksley!” The voice became excited. “Oh, sir! You will come right away. I alone understand, sir. You will remember me when you see me. I'm the captain's butler, sir--Jenkins. He cabled back to give you the entire run of the house as long as you desired it. He advised me to notify you that he had also prepared his banker against your arrival. Have your luggage sent here at once, sir. Dinner will be at your convenience.” Hawksley's body relaxed. A lump came into his throat. Here was a friend, anyhow, ready to serve him though he was thousands of miles away. When he could trust himself to speak he said: “Sorry. It will be impossible to accept the hospitality at present. I shall call in a few days, however, to establish my identity. Thank you. Good evening.” “Just a moment, sir. I may have an important cable to transmit to you. It would be wise to leave me your address, sir.” Hawksley hesitated a moment. After all, he could trust this perfect old servant, whom he remembered. He gave the address. As he came out of the booth the girl stretched forth an arm to detain him. He stopped. “I'm sorry I spoke like that,” she said. “But I'm so tired! I've been on my feet all day, and everybody's been barking and growling; and if I'd taken in as many nickels as I've passed out in change the boss would be rich.” “Give me a dozen of those roses there.” She sold flowers also. “The pink ones. How much?” he asked. “Two-fifty.” He laid down the money. “Never mind the box. They are for you. Good evening.” The girl stared at the flowers as Ali Baba must have stared at the cask with rubies.