"It will," said Mr. Flathers reassuringly; "it undoubtedly will. I got
much to be thankful for, I know that. Fer instance I never was a poor
relation! That's more than lots of men kin say! The fact are, there
ain't airy one in my whole family connection what's got any more 'n I
have!"

The shower that had been threatening began now in earnest, and Donald
started toward town at a brisk canter, but before he had gone two
squares the rain was driving in sheets across the street, and he was
obliged to dismount and seek shelter in the doorway of an isolated
building that stood at the end of the common. It was a double door
with the upper parts in colored glass, on which was boldly lettered,

The CANT-PASS-IT SALOON.

In one of the windows a placard informed the famishing residents of
Billy-goat Hill that their thirst might not be assuaged until after
twelve o'clock on Sunday night.

As Donald stood in the doorway, an automobile turned the corner and
came to a stop, the lights from the lamps shining on the wet street,
and throwing everything outside their radius into sudden darkness.

A man got out of the machine and ran for shelter. He was coughing, and
held his collar close about his throat.

"Why, hello, Dillingham," said Morley, recognizing him. "How did you
get out here?"

"Joy-riding," said Dillingham with a curl of his lip. "Tried to make a