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THE STRANGER AT THE BAR.

felt ashamed of harboring such a thought against the man.

"If you care to know the fellow, I'll walk out with you and point him out," the man offered gruffly, still with a gleam in his eyes which showed that the expected discomfort of the two men afforded him if not exactly pleasure, at least, amusement.

"Thank you. Won't you join me first?" asked Dick. "What will you have? Whiskey"—to the bartender. "I am very much obliged for your kindness, and if I can ever be of any service to you, command me," and the impulsive Dick took his card case from his pocket and handed one of the rectangular bits of pasteboard to the man just as they both lifted their glasses.

The stranger glanced at the name and turned ghastly pale. His glass fell from his nerveless fingers to the floor with a crash, and he leaned heavily against the mahogany bar.