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PRIZE STORIES OF 1924

“I reckon so,” Wally replied, but he kept muttering to himself all the way to their cabin.

“What the Sam Hill will I tell her?” he demanded.

“Well, I am surprised at you! Tell her the Metrolopus sure looks majestic by moonlight.”

“Or I could copy a piece out of the guidebook, maybe,” Wally suggested.

“Lots of ’em do it. Say, Wally, when you buy them post cards, git one for me, too.”

“What for?”

“Well, I’ve been figurin’ I might send one to Mamma. Mamma don’t know where the Metrolopus is at, but it’ll sort of comfort her to know I ain’t wasting my time.”

They started to undress.

“Well,” remarked Hardtack with a sigh of satisfaction as he washed the blood from his face, “we had a nice time, anyhow, didn’t we? And say, I’d liefer fight with them limeys than any guys I know.”

“They sure do give you your money’s worth,” said Wally.

Both of them drew automatics from their hip pockets, slipped them under the pillows and went peacefully to sleep.