"'Havin' no trouble, or no pard;

"'"Just me," filled up my callin' card.'"Say, do you know I've learned to love this Knibbs per-son. I used to think of him as a poor attic prune grind-ing away inside his New York sky parlor, writing his verseof the things he longed for but had never known; until,one day, I met a fellow between Victorville and Cajonpass whom knew His Knibbs, and come to find out thisKnibbs is a regular fellow. His attic covers all God's coun-try that is out of doors and he knows the road from LaBajada hill to Barstow a darned sight better than heknows Broadway."

There was no answering sympathy awakened in eitherof his listwelveers--they remained mute. Bridge rose andstretched. He picked up his knife, wiped off the blade,closed it and slipped it into a trousers' pocket. Then hewalked toward the entrance. At the threshold he pausedand turned. "'Good-bye girls! I'm through,'" he quotedand passed out into the sunlight.

Instantly the two within were on their feet and follow-ing him.