sombreros, that had not relaxed a muscle in their strained observation of
the little drama, breathed reflectively. Perhaps it was just as well that
they had not emulated Simpson in his brazen charge; the "yearling" was not
to be surprised into talking, that was certain.

"He shore is showing hisself to be a friendly native," commented the man
who had sacrificed milk-teeth investigating the indestructible doll.

"Seems to me that the system he’s playing lacks a heap of science. My
money’s on the yearling." And the man who had "discarded the steak and
drawn to the biscuits" leaned a little forward that he might better watch
developments.

Simpson by this time fully realized his error, but failure before all
these bantering youngsters was a contingency not to be accepted lightly.
As he phrased it to himself, it was worth "another throw." "Seems kind o’
lonesome not having any one to talk to while you’re eatin’, don’t it?"

Miss Carmichael’s air of perfect composure seemed a trifle out of tune
with her surroundings; the nice elevation of eyebrow, the slightly
questioning curl of the lip as she, for the first time apparently, became
aware of the man opposite, seemed to demand a prim drawing-room rather
than the atmosphere of the slouching eating-house.

"Well, really, I’ve hardly had a chance of finding out." And her eyes were
again on her coffee-cup. And there was joy among the men at table that
they had not rushed in after the manner of those who have a greater
courage than the angels.

"No offence meant," deprecated Simpson, with an uneasy glance towards the