dirt.

"Shake hands with Dopey Charlie," said The Sky Pi-

lot, whose age and corpulency appeared to stamp him

with the hall mark of authority. The youth did as he

was bid, smiling into the sullen, chalk-white face and

taking the clammy hand extended toward him. Was it a

shudder that passed through the lithe, young figure or

was it merely a subconscious recognition of the final pass-

ing of the bodily cold before the glowing warmth of the

blaze? "And Soup Face," continued The Sky Pilot. A

battered wreck half rose and extended a pudgy hand.

Red whiskers, matted in little tangled wisps which sug-

gested the dried ingredients of an infinite procession

of semi-liquid refreshments, rioted promiscuously over a

scarlet countenance.

"Pleased to meetcha," sprayed Soup Face. It was a

strained smile which twisted the rather too perfect

mouth of The Oskaloosa Kid, an appellation which we

must, perforce, accept since the youth did not deny it.

Columbus Blackie, The General, and Dirty Eddie

were formally presented. As Dirty Eddie was, physi-

cally, the cleanest member of the band the youth won-

dered how he had come by his sobriquet--that is, he

wondered until he heard Dirty Eddie speak, after which

he was no longer in doubt. The Oskaloosa Kid, self-con-

fessed 'tramp' and burglar, flushed at the lurid obscenity

of Dirty Eddie's remarks.

"Sit down, bo," invited Soup Face. "I guess you're a

regular all right. Here, have a snifter?" and he pulled

a flask from his side pocket, holding it toward The Os-

kaloosa Kid.

"Thank you, but;--er--I'm on the wagon, you know,"

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