"Then tell him to hitch the ponies to a light buggy and have them at the door in a quarter of an hour. I'll go out and take an airing," said Gus to himself, when the darky had disappeared. "There are a good many people here in Clifton who used to snub me when I was at home last summer, and I want to see if they will do it now."
Having performed his ablutions, Gus proceeded to make his toilet with much more care than usual, but he was ready by the time the carriage was at the door. Taking his seat in the vehicle, he drove through the gate and spent the next hour in exhibiting upon the principal streets of the town the best suit of clothes and the best pair of kid gloves he had ever worn. Bob's fine turnout, which was well known in the village, attracted some attention, but it did not bring Gus any more smiles and bows than he had been wont to receive when he trudged through the streets on foot. The people knew him too well; and, besides, there were some of them (how surprised Gus would have been to know it) who believed he had no business in that fine carriage.
Having shown himself off to his satisfaction, Gus turned the ponies' heads toward the wharves, closely scrutinizing the signs on each side of the street as he passed along. Presently he seemed to discover the one he was in search of, for he drew up to the sidewalk and got out of the carriage. After hitching the ponies he entered the door under the sign and found himself in a small, dingy bar-room, whose only occupant was a gray-headed, dissolute-looking man, with a wooden leg. This personage started up as Gus entered, and hobbling around the counter waited for him to make known his wants, at the same time looking fixedly at him, as if he saw something about him that was familiar.
"Well, Barlow, how are you?" said Gus.
"Now, I swan, I thought I knowed the cut of your jib!" exclaimed the old man, extending across the counter a huge, begrimed paw, which Gus pretended he did not see. He was a gentleman now, and gentlemen did not shake hands with such characters as Barlow. Besides, he had his new kids on and did not want to soil them. "It's young Mr. Layton, isn't it?"
"Yes, Barlow, that's who it is," replied Gus.
"I thought I knowed your face, but them good clothes of your'n rather got the best of me. You're dressed up within an inch of your life, ain't you? You don't look much like the dirty, barefoot boy that I used to see playing about the gutters a few years ago. Your father used to live in that little shanty opposite the breakwater, and was so poor that he used to be glad to come to me to find him a job of stevedorin'. I suppose he would turn up his nose at me now."
Gus had come to Barlow's saloon for a particular purpose, but it was not to discuss such matters as these. He did not like to hear about them, so as soon as he saw a chance he broke in with—
"The wheel of fortune has turned a spoke or two in my favor since I last saw you, that is true. But what is the news here in Clifton? I have been away a year, you know."
"Well, there ain't no news 'cepting that ole Cap'n Nellis has slipped off, and that I suppose you knowed long ago. Folks ain't got done talkin' about it, and never will."