train dashed toward the robbers, to the spirit-stirring roll of the snare-drum. The rush from the bushes followed; the battle with detectives concealed in the express-car. Mr. Wrenn was standing sturdily and shooting coolly with the slender hawk-faced Pinkerton man in puttees; with him he leaped to horse and followed the robbers through the forest. He stayed through the whole program twice to see the train robbery again. 

 As he started to go out he found the ticket-taker changing his long light-blue robe of state for a highly commonplace sack-coat without brass buttons. In his astonishment at seeing how a Highness could be transformed into an every-day man, Mr. Wrenn stopped, and, having stopped, spoke: 

 “Uh—that was quite a—quite a picture—that train robbery. Wasn’t it.” 

 “Yuh, I guess—Now where’s the devil and his wife flew away to with my hat? Them guys is always swiping it. Picture, mister? Why, I didn’t see it no more ’n—Say you, Pink Eye, say you crab-footed usher, did you swipe my hat? Ain’t he the cut-up, mister! Ain’t both them ushers the jingling sheepsheads, though! Being cute and hiding my hat in the box-office. Picture? I don’t get no chance to see any of ’em. Funny, ain’t it?—me barking for ’em like I was the grandmother of the guy that invented ’em, and not knowing whether the train robbery—Now who stole my going-home shoes?… Why, I don’t know whether the train did any robbing or not!” 

 He slapped Mr. Wrenn on the back, and the sales clerk’s heart bounded in comradeship. He was surprised into declaring: 

 “Say—uh—I bowed to you the other night and you—well, honestly, you acted like you never saw me.” 

 “Well, well, now, and that’s what happens to me for being the dad of five kids and a she-girl and a tom-cat. Sure, I couldn’t ’ve seen you. Me, I was probably that busy with fambly cares—I was probably thinking who was it et the lemon pie on me—was it Pete or Johnny, or shall I lick ’em both together, or just bite me wife.” 

 Mr. Wrenn knew that the ticket-taker had never, never really considered biting his wife. He knew! His nod and grin and “That’s the idea!” were urbanely sophisticated. He urged: 

 “Oh yes, I’m sure you didn’t intend to hand me the icy mitt. Say! I’m thirsty. Come on over to Moje’s and I’ll buy you a drink.” 

 He was aghast at this abyss of money-spending into which he had leaped, and the 

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