In high feather at the attention he was receiving, Mr. Blows pushed his
way through the idlers at the door and ascended the short flight of
stairs which led to the room where the members of the Ancient Order of
Camels were holding their lodge. The crowd swarmed up after him.

The door was locked, but in response to his knocking it opened a couple
of inches, and a gruff voice demanded his business. Then, before he
could give it, the doorkeeper reeled back into the room, and Mr. Blows
with a large following pushed his way in.

The president and his officers, who were sitting in state behind a long
table at the end of the room, started to their feet with mingled cries of
indignation and dismay at the intrusion. Mr. Blows, conscious of the
strength of his position, walked up to them.

[Illustration: "Mr. Blows, conscious of the strength of his position,
walked up to them."]

"Mr. Blows!" gasped the president.

"Ah, you didn't expec' see me," said Mr. Blows, with a scornful laugh
"They're trying do me, do me out o' my lill bit o' money, Bill."

"But you ain't got no money," said his bewildered friend.

Mr. Blows turned and eyed him haughtily; then he confronted the staring
president again.

"I've come for--my money," he said, impressively-- "one 'under-eighty
pounds."