Late in the evening, faint with hunger, he started for his wretched bunk as a starving wolf returns, after an unsuccessful hunt, to his cold and cheerless den. His money was again reduced to a few coppers, and for a week he had allowed himself only a small roll three times a day. "My God! if I was only among the In-jins," he said savagely; "_they_ wouldn't see a man starve, not while they had a sliver of meat to share with him; but these Easterners don't care; I'm no more to them than a snake or a horned toad." The knowledge that Mary's heart would bleed with sorrow if she knew of his condition nerved him to make another desperate trial. "I'll try again to-morrow," he said through his set teeth. On the way home his curious fatalism took a sudden turn, and a feeling that Reynolds' letter surely awaited him made his heart glow. It was impossible that he should actually be without a cent of money, and the thought filled his brain with an irrational exaltation which made him forget the slime in which his feet slipped. He planned to start on the limited train. "I'll go as far from this cursed hole of a city as I can," he said; "I'll get out where men don't eat each other to keep alive. He'll certainly send me twenty dollars. The silver on the bridle is worth that alone. Mebbe he'll understand I'm broke, and send me fifty." He became so sure of this at last that he stepped into a saloon and bought a big glass of brandy to ward off a chill which he felt coming upon him, and helped himself to a lunch at the counter. When he arose his limbs felt weak and a singular numbness had spread over his whole body. He had never been drunk in his life--but he knew the brandy had produced this effect. "I shouldn't have taken it on an empty stomach," he muttered to himself as he dragged his heavy limbs out of the door. When he came fairly to his senses again he was lying in his little room and the slatternly chambermaid was looking in at him. "You aind seek alretty?" she asked. "Go away," he said with a scowl; "you've bothered me too much." "You peen trinken--aind it. Chim help you up de stairs last nide." "What time is it?" he asked, with an effort to recall where he had been. "Tweluf o'clock," she replied, still looking at him keenly, genuinely concerned about him. "Go away. I must get up." As she went toward the door he sat up for a moment, but a terrible throbbing pain just back of his eyes threw him back upon his pillow as if he had met the blow of a fist. "Oh, I'm used up--I can't do it," he groaned, pressing his palms to his temples. "I'm burning up with fever." The girl came back. "Dat's vat I tought. You dond look ride. Your mudder vouldn't known you since you gome here. Pedder you send for your folks alretty." "Oh, go out--let me alone. Yes, I'll do it. I'll get up soon."