needed to keep it going. I dare say that you know all about these
little games. But what would you? What is a man to do in a country
where you may buy a whole village for ten dollars? Warburton seldom
drank, and, like the author of this precious volume, only special
vintages.

At this particular moment this hero of mine was going over the
monotony of the old days in Arizona, the sand-deserts, the unlovely
landscapes, the dull routine, the indifferent skirmishes with cattle-
men and Indians; the pagan bullet which had plowed through his leg.
And now it was all over; he had surrendered his straps; he was a
private citizen, with an income sufficient for his needs. It will go
a long way, forty-five hundred a year, if one does not attempt to
cover the distance in a five-thousand motor-car; and he hated all
locomotion that was not horse-flesh.

For nine months he had been wandering over Europe, if not happy, at
least in a satisfied frame of mind. Four of these months had been
delightfully passed in Paris; and, as his nomad excursions had
invariably terminated in that queen of cities, I make Paris the
starting point of his somewhat remarkable adventures. Besides, it was
in Paris that he first saw Her. And now, here he was at last,
homeward-bound. That phrase had a mighty pleasant sound; it was to
the ear what honey is to the tongue. Still, he might yet have been in
Paris but for one thing: She was on board this very boat.

Suddenly his eyes opened full wide, bright with eagerness.

"It is She!" he murmured. He closed his eyes again, the hypocrite!