"Don't you care. You'll feel dopy for a day er two--then ye won't mind it. It'll git your nanny the first time. This is my fifth time in this joint," he volunteered. "I got eight spots ahead of me. Say, pal, sneak me th' makin's, will ye?" Lem did not answer. "Have ye got any tobacco on ye?" "Ef I had, yo'd be welcome to hit--I never use hit." The man looked disappointed. "Say--when the bull frisked ye--did he git all your matches--ain't ye got no matches either?" "I haint got nary a match." Here a big, husky fellow in stripes, who walked as if he had springs for shoe-soles, passed by. Then he stopped, and turning back, looked keenly into Lem's face. Lem met his gaze and noted that he wore a livid scar from the right cheek-bone down to the chin. He did not appear to see the other two men on the bench, but stood looking with open interest at Lem. "Hello, Last Time," greeted the man next to Lem. Wherefore, the newcomer shifted his gaze searchingly, then grinned. With a furtive backward glance toward the guard's desk, he thrust his hand out. "What did you draw, Rox?" he probed. "Eight." "A mere speck--I could stand on my head that long. I may see you to-night." He hurried on with his elastic tread toward the guard's desk. "I'm dead sure we'll git some tobacco now," predicted the man beside Lem. "That's 'Last Time'--he's a time-lock expert--believe me, gents--he's some cracker, too. I met him in Joliet, and I met him agin in San Quinten. Say, Monk, do ye remember readin' about that back-track stunt Last Time pulled off five years ago? No? Well, that was a funny caper. You see, Last Time touched a big joint in Cincy and got four thousand bucks. Then he beat it west. Two days later he got stewed in Chi--then he boarded a train with a bottle of booze, thinkin' he was bound fer Omaha; but he woke up that night and walked smack into the arms of the fly cops in Cincy. What do ye think of that? They didn't prove it on him very strong, but he drawed two spots at Columbus on general principles. I wonder what he turned this time. I met him last winter in St. Louis and I was up aginst it good and strong, too, but Last Time slipped me fifty as easy as dirt. He's got a heart as big as a cow's. Don't you worry--we'll git tobacco now. I wonder how much longer they'll keep us here," he faced about and addressed Lem. "I'm waiting to git my top-knot clipped--I reckon ye wouldn't want to lose your hair, would ye, pal?" he observed, regarding Lem's flowing locks. "I reckon he will lose 'em, though," projected a raspy voice. The three looked up. Blinky was standing over them with a pair of clippers in his hand. "What are you, anyhow," chided Blinky, sneeringly. "Are you a cowboy or a preacher?" Lem felt a warm sting rise to his cheeks, as he fixed his eyes inquiringly upon Blinky's insolent face.