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"Mr. Rank," he said, "it looks like no customers was comin'."

"Looks that a-way," said Rank.

"And, I reckon, suh, that 's what you meant the other day when I-you laughed."

Rank nodded, smiling.

"I'm not needed in all this city of a

million of people!"

"I expect not," replied Rank.

He put the bill away and went to bed. But he did not sleep well. At last he sat


"No man can give me money," he said to something. "One man may lend to another, but it must be paid back."

But this became more and more easy to say and hard to do, as he thought.

Finally he rose and paced the floor without more sleep that night, a thing

"And I have not got in the way of the which he could remember to have hapgreats-not at all."

"Seems like," agreed the smith. "Well! well!"

"You see, old man, all your kind of things are made now by machinery, and made better."

pened to him only once before, when his brother Daniel married Annie Lee of Virginia.


THE next morning he went to look for work. It was a weary day. What could one of seventy do?

"Yes," admitted Raybun, "the joinery is perfect. What am I to do about your loans?" "Just go on-ahem!-workin', and bor- bearing on his back and his breast a pair rowin' money from me."

The blacksmith laughed happily. "But though that would make me happy, when am I to pay you back, suh?"

"Soon 's your customers come-as agreed," laughingly replied the jolly smith, pushing a bill down the collar of Raybun's shirt so that he could not return it, and putting him out of the shop.

"Why," said Rank to the horse he happened to be shoeing, "I git happiness out of that old son of a gun being roundjust being around-regular happiness! That there smile of hisn! Just stepped out of mother's big old Bible.'

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Raybun went back to his loft and stood in the midst of it, looking about. Then he passed his hands lovingly over the things he had made, the beautiful fourposter, the dining-table, last the arm-chair. Again he set his tools in order, ready at a moment's notice. Then he sat down on the bed.

"Well," he mused, "I expect my last chance has come"-a long moment-"and gone. Mebby I had none when I come up yere. Mebby-seventy! I reckon I'm an' ol' fool. Yes, the greats is slow a-comin'. But my friend the blacksmith is pleasant-very pleasant. And it is peaceful here-peaceful. I don't like to go."

He remembered the money in his shirt, and extracted it with some difficulty. He turned it over in his hands, smiling.

"I reckon, now, he 'd be hurt if I were to return this. Yes, he 'd be hurt."

Toward evening he came upon a man

of oilcloth signs that read:


That night, in the four-poster, he yielded to an idea. He rose early, and, dressing in haste, threw his great mass of white hair about his face and spread his beard over his chest. Then he found his way to the office of Protoplasmic Hair Tonic.

"Would you like another sandwichman?" he asked.

"No," said the manager, without looking up. Then he saw Raybun's hair. "Wait," he said. "Would you dye your hair?"

Raybun hesitated.

"We can't advertise our goods to produce gray hair; but such a shock as yours-"

"If you could get the idea to 'em that even in old age your tonic produces such hair, suh-"

"No good," said the manager, briefly. "Everybody expects an old man to be gray or bald; but a young man, or even an old one, with that quantity of dark hair-good day."

Raybun paltered no more.

"You may dye my hair, suh," he said. "You'll make up real young," added the manager.

"Say, Moses in the Bulrushes, you quit that!" threatened Rank when Raybun ap

peared that night. "You're no chicken, and you can't make the girls believe it. Think, after all, you'll start a mash and git married an' have your own kids, do you? Well, I'll give you away-tell your age. Come on; wash that paint off right away!" Indeed, Rank would have done this had not Raybun succeeded in explaining.

"Say," pleaded Rank, "you don't have to do that there."

"Yes I do," persisted Raybun. "A gentleman won't live on no one, and I expect to pay what I owe you, suh."

"Well, you 're a stubborn gentleman when you set your head. That 's no profession for a gentleman, and you said yourself that you was one."

"I agree with you, suh, that the profession of sandwich-man is the last I should have voluntarily chosen," said Raybun; "but any profession in which an honest livin' can be made is fit fo' a gentleman from Ma'yland, suh."

"Well, then, we 're off," replied Rank, and ended so.


THEREAFTER Raybun made two pilgrimages every day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, the first along the south side of Chestnut Street and the east side of Broad Street, and the second along the north side of Chestnut and the west side of Broad Street, at the busy hours, when men were going to their work, and when women were coming from the theaters. The price was a dollar and a half a week until another great idea raised his wages at one bound to two dollars a week.

"Suh," said Raybun to the manager one morning before starting upon his pilgrimage, "are my services satisfactory?"

"Oh, I guess so," replied the manager. "If not, I will resign." The manager laughed. "Resign!" he said. "When we don't want you, you get fired. When you get tired, quit, that's all. Get to work. Business been pretty good lately.' But Raybun persisted. "I have an idea," said he, "which is worth at least another fifty cents a week." "What is it?"

"I want the promise of the half-dollar first, suh."

"Oh, you do! Well, you 're discharged."

"Very well," said Raybun, taking off his sandwich. "I'll take the idea to the Monument Hair Restorer. Good morning."

your idea! have one.

"Here," cried the manager, "out with Even a sandwich-man may Here's a half-dollar for it. I'll take a chance on you."

"Thank you," said Raybun. "It is this: say on the signs, 'I Use Protoplasmic Hair Tonic.'"


"Right!" said the manager. wages are two dollars a week hereafter. Go for a sign-painter."

Being a sandwich-man soon became a pleasant employment to old Raybun. He grew very tired at first, it is true, and often lay on the four-poster to rest after his pilgrimages. But presently he learned how to walk his allotted journey without weariness. And what he saw and heard on the way was always wonderful and never the same. For the most part he walked in the sun; but often it was through winds and rain and snow. Though always there was enough abroad to make every day attractive in its own way. So that presently the dull days were those he spent at home, and the bright and happy ones those he spent on the streets with the hair-tonic signs on breast and back.

Here, as always, the children flocked to Raybun, proud to walk his beat with the sandwich-man, two holding each hand sometimes, and others competing for the honor. And the children were not all of the poor.

Presently Raybun became a very celebrated person in the city, and had his portrait in the Sunday editions oftener than the richest man or the most beautiful woman. This gave Raybun great and unexpected delight, especially when he was snapped with a bevy of his children about him. A considerable space on the walls of his loft came to be covered with the various portraits of him. Of course all this served to make Protoplasmic Hair Tonic better known. There was one picture he liked specially. Perhaps without intention, he let the dye fade out of his hair, and it was again as white as snow. Now the manager discovered, to his surprise, that Raybun was right and he wrong about that white hair. It made their sandwich-man more to be remarked

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the magistrate, who was Irish, "and that's easy, considering that I don't know whether or not you deserve it at all."

Old Raybun went to prison, and his pictures went into the newspapers with the whole mysterious story. Raybun was afraid that he would be ruined in his profession by this, but he was entirely mis


The bald man took drunken offense at this, and at once there was a mêlée in which the bald man was knocked down. Well, it is hard to believe, but in a moment the old sandwich-man became a hurtling fury. He stood over the prostrate man and beat down those who came upon him with the edges of his signs. The police arrested him.

When the case came for its small trial before the small magistrate, Raybun stood


"Don't you know this man? Did you never see him before?" shouted the magis


Raybun calmly looked at the man.

"No, I never saw him before," he said. "Then why did you beat him and three of his friends? They were only in fun." But Raybun was again mute.

"Then, you," cried the magistrate to the other man. "Don't you know this fellow? Have n't you ever seen him before?"

"No," answered the man.

taken. He was missed from the streets, and constant comment was made concerning this in the newspapers. Indeed, he was more famous in prison than out of it; so much so that presently a petition was sent to the governor for his pardon, which was at once granted, and Raybun, more famous than ever, was met at the prison-gates by the manager in a cab, with an offer of twice his old salary. His way for the next month was a daily ovation.

"I thought goin' to jail would ruin any profession," said the sandwichman to Rank that night, "but seems like it 's made

me more famous."
"The greats has come," laughingly re-
plied Rank.

"Yes," replied Raybun, seriously.

"You mean that yes?" demanded Rank. "Certainly," said Raybun, with dignity; "I have become the greatest sandwich-man in the world, suh.'

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"Say," agreed Rank, in awe, "I guess that there's so. Lord! And you like it!" "Yes," replied Raybun. "You ought to see them flock around me wherever I go, and give me flowers-the pretty girls -and candy-the children-and money the bankers."

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He drew a handful of it out of his pocket.

"Right!" cried Rank, seeing a great light and gripping the sandwich-man's hand. "You 've joined the greats. You 're as great as Carnegie. He could n't be what you are. You could n't be what he is. Both great! But why did you do it -strike that man?"

"I did not strike him," said Raybun. "Ninety days in the county jail," said "I protected him. It was brother Dan."

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