--No, the gentleman would have it right in his bedroom; but first,
where were his cigarettes? He hoped above all things that the
waiter had not forgotten his cigarettes. Some people began their
days with cold showers--nothing less than a cruel shock to a
languid nervous system. An atrocious practice, the speaker called
it--a relic of barbarism--a fetish of ignorance. Much preferable
was a hygienic, stimulating cigarette which served the same
purpose and left no deleterious aftereffects.

The pajama-clad guest struck a light, inhaled with abundant
satisfaction, and then cast a hungry eye over the contents of the
rubber-tired breakfast table. He, too, tested the temperature of the
melon and felt the cover of the toast plate.

"Splendid!" he cried. "Nice rooms, prompt service, a pleasant-faced
waiter. Why, I couldn't fare better in my best club. Thanks to you,
my first impression of Dallas is wholly delightful." He seated himself
in a padded boudoir chair, unfolded a snowy serviette and attacked his
breakfast with the enthusiasm of a perfectly healthy animal.

"Is this your first visit here, sir?"

"Absolutely. Dallas is as foreign to me as Lhasa. It is the Baghdad
of my dreams and its streets are strange. Perhaps they are full of
adventure for me. I hope so. Anything exciting can happen in a
town where one has neither friends nor acquaintances, eh? You are
a well-read man, I take it."

"I? Why--"