"'Your wife!' says I. 'Are you married, pardner?'
"'Yes, I'm married,' and his voice sounded queer. 'I've got a boy—too, see.'
"He took a locket from his flannel shirt and opened it. A curly-headed, dimpled little youngster laughed out at me.
"'Well, I'm d——!' and then I took off my hat, for in the other side was a woman—and, gentlemen, she was a woman! When I seen her it made me feel blushy and ashamed. Gee! She was a stunner. I just stared at her till Struthers looked over my shoulder, and says, excited:
"'Why, it's Olive Troop, the singer!'
"'Not any more,' says Morrow, smiling.
"'Oh! So you're the fellow she gave up her art for? I knew her on the stage.'
"Something way deep down in the man grated on me, but the kid was lookin' at the picture and never noticed, while hunger peered from his face.
"'You can't blame me,' he says finally. 'She'd worry to death if she saw that picture. The likeness is too good. You might substitute another face on my shoulders; that can be done, can't it?'
"'Why, sure; dead easy, but I'll not run it at all if you feel that way,' says the artist.