red carpet covered the floor. The proprietor was leaning against the
counter playing with his watch-chain--a short man with a bald head. A
few guests were sitting about, reading or smoking.

"What's become of Mulford," I asked; "Dick Mulford, who used to be
here?"

The man shook his head.

"Why, yes, you must have known him--some of his friends called him
Muffles."

The man continued to shake his head. Then he answered, carelessly:

"I've only been here six months--another man had it before me. He put
these fixtures in."

"Maybe you can tell me?"--and I turned to the bar-keeper.

"Guess he means the feller who blew in here first month we come," the
bar-keeper answered, addressing his remark to the proprietor. "He said
he'd been runnin' the place once."

"Oh, you mean that guy! Yes, I got it now," answered the proprietor,
with some animation, as if suddenly interested. "He come in the week we
opened--worst-lookin' bum you ever see--toes out of his shoes, coat all
torn. Said he had no money and asked for something to eat. Billy here
was goin' to fire him out when one of my customers said he knew him. I
don't let no man go hungry if I can help it, and so I sent him
downstairs and cook filled him up. After he had all he wanted to eat he