He was all alone,
for the fellows he started with went so fast and wanted to do so many
things that he could not do, that he had made an excuse to shake them off.
They were kind. They would not have left him if they had known; but he
wasn't going to begin his new life having everybody put out on his
account, so he was alone. And it was toward evening. He was very tired. It
seemed to him that he couldn't go another block. If only there were a
place somewhere where he could sit down a little while and rest; even a
doorstep would do if there were only one near at hand. Of course, there
were saloons, and there would always be soldiers in them. He would likely
be treated, and there would be good cheer, and a chance to forget for a
little while; but somehow the thought of that Salvation lassie and the
cheery way she had made him send that telegram kept him back. When a girl
with painted cheeks stopped and smiled in his face he passed her by, and
half wondered why he did it. He must go somewhere presently and get a bite
to eat, but it couldn't be much for he wanted to save money enough and
hunt up that lodging house where there were nice beds. How much he wanted
that bed!
[Illustration: Right in the midst of the busy hurrying throng of Union
Square]
[Illustration: "Smiling Billy" "One Game Little Guy"]
It was quite dark now.
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