Inspired by his recent rivalry with Mr. Jefferson Locke, Anthony
played the part of host more lavishly than even the present
occasion required. He ordered elaborately, and it was not long
before corks were popping and dishes rattling quite as if the
young men were really hungry. Mr. Locke, however, insisted that
his friends should partake of a kind of drink previously unheard
of, and with this in view had a confidential chat with the waiter,
to whom he unostentatiously handed a five-dollar retainer. No one
witnessed this unusual generosity except Higgins, who commended it
fondly; but his remarks went unheeded in the general clamor.

The meal was at its noisiest when the man whom Locke had so
generously tipped spoke to him quietly. Whatever his words, they
affected the listener strongly. Locke's face whitened, then grew
muddy and yellow, his hands trembled, his lips went dry. He half
arose from his chair, then cast a swift look about the room. His
companions were too well occupied, however, to notice this by-play
even when the waiter continued, in a low tone:

"He slipped me a ten-spot, so I thought it must be something worth
while."

"He--he's alone, you say?"

"Seems to be. What shall I do, sir?"

Locke took something from his pocket and thrust it into the
fellow's hand, while the look in his eyes changed to one of