The doffed hat and the clutched _Argus_ became the mark of his drink-bought serfs.

By four o'clock the only hospitable doorways on the street were those of the three saloons.

Our leading business men were departing from their establishments by back doors and the secrecy of gracious alleys.
From Skeyhan's to Hoffmuller's, from Hoffmuller's to the City Hotel, the crowd sang and shouted its irregular progress, the air being "Auld Lang Syne." It was about this time that the Colonel unhappily caught a glimpse of myself through the window of the hotel.

A glad light came into his eyes, and at once he searched among the letters, crying, meanwhile: "My brother in arms! A younger brother, but a gallant officer, none the less--" I knew that he sought my letter.

Egress from the City Hotel may be achieved, when desirable, by a side door, and I saw no more of Potts that day.