"You go slow about having me pinched," Kirk said, darkly, "or I'll make you jump through a hoop. I'll pay my debts." "You're a rich man, eh? Money doesn't mean much to you, hey?" mocked the infuriated Consul. "I suppose this is an old game of yours. Well, you stuck me all right, because you knew I couldn't have you arrested--I'd be a laughing-stock forever. But I've had your card cancelled, and I've left word for the waiters to throw you out if you show up at the Wayfarers." "Will you lend me enough money to cable again?" asked Anthony, with an effort. "More money? NO!" fairly screamed the other. "You get out of my house, Mr. 'Kirk Anthony,' and don't you show yourself around here again. I'll keep the rest of your wardrobe." His erstwhile guest underwent an abrupt reversal of emotion. To the indignant amazement of Mr. Weeks, he burst into a genuine laugh, saying: "All right, landlord, keep my baggage. I believe that's the custom, but--Oh, gee! This IS funny." He was still laughing when he reached the public square, for at last he had begun to see the full humor of Adelbert Higgins' joke. VII THE REWARD OF MERIT Facing for the first time in his life an instant and absolute need of money, Kirk found himself singularly lacking in resource; and a period of sober contemplation brought him no helpful thought. Perhaps, after all, he decided, his best course would be to seek relief from the Cortlandts. Accordingly, he strolled into the offices of the steamship company near by and asked leave to telephone. But on calling up the Hotel Tivoli, he was told that his friends were out; nor could he learn the probable hour of their return. As he hung up the receiver he noticed that the office was closing, and, seeing the agent about to quit the place, addressed him: "I'd like to ask a favor." "What is it?" "Will you introduce me to the best hotel in town? I have friends in Panama City, but they're out and it's getting late." "There isn't a good hotel here, but you don't need an introduction; just walk in. They're not full." "I'm broke, and I have no baggage." "Don't you know anybody?" "I know the American consul--been stopping at his house for a week--but he threw me out." A great light seemed suddenly to dawn upon the agent. "Oh, you're Locke!" said he, with the air of one who detects a fraud too obvious to be taken seriously. "Now I understand. The purser on the Santa Cruz told me about you. Sorry I can't help you, but I'm a salaried man." "I've got to sleep," stoutly maintained the other. "Somebody will have to take care of me; I can't sit up all night." "See here, my friend, I don't know what your game is, but you can't sting me." The agent finished locking up, then walked away, leaving his visitor to reflect anew upon the average human being's ignoble lack of faith in his fellows.