"Oh, not at all." The occupant of the Governor's suite leaned back
in his chair and smiled widely. "As a matter of fact, I am
flattered, for it is evident that you are endowed with the money-
making instinct and that you unerringly recognize it in others.
Very well, I shall see what I can do for you. But while we are on
the subject of tips, would you mind helping yourself to a dollar
out of my trousers pocket?"

The waiter proceeded to do as directed, but a moment later
announced, apologetically: "Here's all I find, sir. It's mostly
pennies." He exposed a handful of small coins.

"Look in my coat, if you will."

But the second search resulted as had the first. "Strange!"
murmured the guest, without rising. "I must have been robbed. I
remember now, a fellow crowded me as I left my train. Um--m!
Robbed--at the very gates of Baghdad! Dallas _is_ a City of
Adventure. Please add your tip to the check, and--make it two
dollars. I'd like to have you serve me every morning, for I cannot
abide an acid face at breakfast. It sours my whole day."

Calvin Gray finished his breakfast, smoked a second cigarette as
he scanned the morning paper, then he dressed himself with
meticulous care. He possessed a tall, erect, athletic form, his
perfectly fitting clothes had that touch of individuality affected
by a certain few of New York's exclusive tailors, and when he
finally surveyed himself in the glass, there was no denying the
fact that he presented an appearance of unusual distinction. As he