IX

THE HIGHER ABDICATION


Curly the tramp sidled toward the free-lunch counter. He caught a
fleeting glance from the bartender's eye, and stood still, trying to
look like a business man who had just dined at the Menger and was
waiting for a friend who had promised to pick him up in his motor car.
Curly's histrionic powers were equal to the impersonation; but his
make-up was wanting.

The bartender rounded the bar in a casual way, looking up at the
ceiling as though he was pondering some intricate problem of
kalsomining [57], and then fell upon Curly so suddenly that the roadster
had no excuses ready. Irresistibly, but so composedly that it seemed
almost absendmindedness on his part, the dispenser of drinks pushed
Curly to the swinging doors and kicked him out, with a nonchalance that
almost amounted to sadness. That was the way of the Southwest.

[FOOTNOTE 57: kalsomining--applying a whitewash to ceiling or
walls]

Curly arose from the gutter leisurely. He felt no anger or resentment
toward his ejector. Fifteen years of tramphood spent out of the
twenty-two years of his life had hardened the fibres of his spirit.
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune [58] fell blunted from the