"This is coffee," he announced."I thought you said it was ambrose.""I only wished to see if you would recognize it, my friend,"replied the poetical one politely."I am highly complimented that you can guess what it is from its taste."For several minutes the two ate in silence, passing the tin can back and forth, and slicing--hacking would be more nearly correct--pieces of meat from the half-roasted fowl.It was Billy who broke the silence.
"I think," said he, "that you been stringin' me--'bout James and ambrose."The other laughed good-naturedly.
"You are not offended, I hope," said he."This is a sad old world, you know, and we're all looking for amusement.If a guy has no money to buy it with, he has to manufacture it.""Sure, I ain't sore," Billy assured him."Say, spiel that part again 'bout Penelope with the kisses on her mouth, an' you can kid me till the cows come home."The camper by the creek did as Billy asked him, while the latter sat with his eyes upon the fire seeing in the sputtering little flames the oval face of her who was Penelope to him.
When the verse was completed he reached forth his hand and took the tin can in his strong fingers, raising it before his face.
"Here's to--to his Knibbs!" he said, and drank, passing the battered thing over to his new friend.
"Yes," said the other; "here's to his Knibbs, and--Penelope!"
"Drink hearty," returned Billy Byrne.
The poetical one drew a sack of tobacco from his hip pocket and a rumpled package of papers from the pocket of his shirt, extending both toward Billy.
"Want the makings?" he asked.
"I ain't stuck on sponging," said Billy; "but maybe I can get even some day, and I sure do want a smoke.You see Iwas frisked.I ain't got nothin'--they didn't leave me a sou markee."Billy reached across one end of the fire for the tobacco and cigarette papers.As he did so the movement bared his wrist, and as the firelight fell upon it the marks of the steel bracelet showed vividly.In the fall from the train the metal had bitten into the flesh.
His companion's eyes happened to fall upon the telltale mark.There was an almost imperceptible raising of the man's eyebrows; but he said nothing to indicate that he had noticed anything out of the ordinary.
The two smoked on for many minutes without indulging in conversation.The camper quoted snatches from Service and Kipling, then he came back to Knibbs, who was evidently his favorite.Billy listened and thought.
"Goin' anywheres in particular?" he asked during a momentary lull in the recitation.
"Oh, south or west," replied the other."Nowhere in particular--any place suits me just so it isn't north or east.""That's me," said Billy.
"Let's travel double, then," said the poetical one."My name's Bridge.""And mine's Billy.Here, shake," and Byrne extended his hand.
"Until one of us gets wearied of the other's company," said Bridge.
"You're on," replied Billy."Let's turn in.""Good," exclaimed Bridge."I wonder what's keeping James.He should have been here long since to turn down my bed and fix my bath."Billy grinned and rolled over on his side, his head uphill and his feet toward the fire.A couple of feet away Bridge paralleled him, and in five minutes both were breathing deeply in healthy slumber.
