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One evening, towards the close of our hero's search among the lodging-houses, little Zook entered the kitchen of the establishment, tea-pot and penny loaf in hand. He hastened towards the roaring fire that might have roasted a whole sheep, and which served to warm the entire basement storey, or kitchen, of the tenement.
There was the natty forage-cap with the gleaming cross-sabres; there was the dark face, there the heavy brows, the glittering black eyes, the moustache and imperial, the close-curling hair, of the very man he had seen peeping into the parlor windows back of Mrs. Griffin's little post-office the night of his talk with Corporal Zook. Ten minutes later and he was tapping at McLean's door.
W'atever little game may 'ave brought you 'ere, sir, it ain't poverty an' nobody will be fool enough in this 'ouse to believe it is." "You are right, Zook. I'm sorry I forgot myself," returned Charlie, with a sigh. "After all, it does not matter much, for I fear my little game as you call it was nearly played out, and it does not seem as if I were going to win."
Roswell Holmes paused at the outskirts with Corporal Zook by his side, some of the loungers looked around with their hands in their pockets; some of the cowboys who had earned their dollars on his ranch nodded cheerily at sight of their employer; but this was the United States post-office, these were sovereign citizens, and every man or woman of them, except the half-dozen enlisted men whose mail was always taken to barracks, had just as much right there as the capitalist from Chicago, and knew it.
"Yes at least to all in this neighbourhood." "What! in that toggery?" asked the little man, with a grin. "Not exactly, Zook, I can change my shell like the hermit crabs." "Well, sir, it's my opinion that you may go on till doomsday on this scent an' find nuthin'; but there's a old 'ooman as I knows on that might be able to 'elp you. Mind I don't say she could, but she might.
"Zook, sir," said the little man, with a grave shake of the head; "couldn't think of changin' my name at my time of life; let it be Zook, if you please, sir, though in course I've no objection to esquire, w'en I 'ave the means to maintain my rank."
"Ay, wi' the women an' kids shoutin' for grub," added Zook, as he limped after the scout, while the rest of the little band dispersed some to cut firewood, others to select the best positions for the tents. The waggons, with a supply of food, arrived soon after under the care of Roaring Bull himself, with two of his cowboys.
As it was, however, he showed his goodwill by many little acts of kindness such as making way for Zook so he was called when he wanted to get to the general fire to boil his tea or coffee; giving him a portion of his own food on the half pretence that he had eaten as much as he wanted, etcetera.
Charlie looked steadily in the honest, pale, careworn face of his companion for a few seconds without speaking. Poverty, it is said, brings together strange bed-fellows. Not less, perhaps, does it lead to unlikely confidants. Under a sudden impulse our hero revealed to poor Zook the cause of his being there concealing nothing except names.
"I'm a thousand times obliged to you, Corporal Zook, for all you've told me, and I assure you I'm as proud of the lieutenant as you are. Now, I may not be here when the troop gets back to-morrow, I may have to go back to see if all is well at the ranch; but after their ride they'll all be thirsty, and when I'm very thirsty there's nothing I like better than a glass of cool lager.
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