the crowd, Carruthers halted Jimmie Dale.

"Jimmie," he said reproachfully, "you certainly made a mark of us both.
There wasn't any need to play the 'cub' so egregiously. However, I'll
forgive you for the sake of the sketch--hand it over, Jimmie; I'm going
to reproduce it in the first edition."

"It wasn't drawn for reproduction, Carruthers--at least not yet," said
Jimmie Dale quietly.

Carruthers stared at him. "Eh?" he asked blankly.

"I've taken a dislike to Clayton," said Jimmie Dale whimsically. "He's
too patently after free advertising, and I'm not going to help along his
boost. You can't have it, old man, so let's think about something
else. What'll they do with that bit of paper that's on the poor devil's
forehead up there, for instance."

"Say," said Carruthers, "does it strike you that you're acting queer?
You haven't been drinking, have you, Jimmie?"

"What'll they do with it?" persisted Jimmie Dale.

"Well," said Carruthers, smiling a little tolerantly, "they'll
photograph it and enlarge the photograph, and label it 'Exhibit A' or
'Exhibit B' or something like that--and file it away in the archives
with the fifty or more just like it that are already in their
collection."

"That's what I thought," observed Jimmie Dale. He took Carruthers by the