sincerest form of flattery--and it pleased his vanity. Buddy's
mind was thirsty, his curiosity was boundless, questions popped
out of him at every step, and every answer, every bit of
information or of philosophy that fell from the visitor's lips he
pounced upon, avidly examined, then carefully put away for future
use. He was like a magpie filling its nest. Gray's personal
habits, mannerisms, tricks--all were grist for Buddy's mill. The
stranger's suit, for instance, was a curiosity to the boy, who
could not understand wherein it was so different from any other he
had ever seen; young Briskow attributed that difference to the
fact that it had probably come from a bigger store than any he had
known. It amazed him to learn, in answer to a pointed question,
that it had been cut and fitted to the wearer by expert workmen.
It disappointed him bitterly to be informed that there was not
another one exactly like it which he could buy.

And the visitor's silk shirt, with double cuffs and a monogram on
the sleeve! Fancy "fixin's" like this, Buddy confessed, he had
always associated with womenfolks, but if Gray wore them there
could be nothing disgraceful, nothing effeminate about the
practice. There was a decided thrill in the prospect of possessing
such finery, all initialed with huge, silken O. B's. Life was
presenting wholly novel and exciting possibilities to the youth.

When Gray offered him a cigarette, Buddy rudely took the gold case
out of his hand and examined it, then he laughed in raucous
delight.

"Gosh! I never knew men had _purty_ things. I--I'm goin' to get me
one like that."