” “You didn’t. ” “You cannot play at hide-and-seek with this creature all your life,” he answered. Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. Amid a litter of nails without heads, screws without worms, and locks without wards, lay a glue-pot and an oilstone, two articles which their owner was wont to term "his right hand and his left. I did not know you spoke Kanaka," he broke off. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. Mr. He, for his part, was trying to grasp the series of unexpected reactions that had so wrecked their tete-a-tete.
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