like to hurt these cordial revelers' feelings by disclaiming
knowledge of them. Especially when they told him merrily that,
for this evening at least, his money was made of wood and that he
must be their guest.

Never before had he met with such wholesouled hospitality. One
drink followed another with gratifying speed. Once or twice
Ferris made halfhearted proffers to do some of the buying. But
such hints seemed to hurt his hosts' feelings so cruelly that he
forbore at last, and suffered himself to drink entirely at their
expense.

They were much the nicest men Link had ever met. They flattered
him. They laughed uproariously at his every witticism. They had a
genius for noting when his glass was empty. They listened with
astonished admiration to his boastful recital of Chum's
cleverness. One of them, who, it seemed, was an expert in dog
lore, told him how to teach the collie to shake hands and to lie
down and to "speak." They were magnificent men, in every way.
Link was ashamed to have forgotten his earlier meetings with such
paragons.

But the call of duty never quite dies into silence. And finally
Link remembered he had still his store bill to pay and his
supplies to order. So he announced that he must go. The store, he
knew, closed at nine. He looked up at the barroom clock. But its
face was hazy and it seemed to have a great many hands. There was
no use trying to learn the hour from so dissolute a timepiece.

His two friends persuaded him to have one more drink. Then they