Bob, the man from the West aceompanied the long man to some place around for a long talk about their old days. They left the door of the hardware store and started up the street. They went arm in arm while progressing their way then the egotism in the man from the West was enlarged by his success. As a result he began to outline the history of his career. The other accompanying him, submerged in his overcoat listened to each of his words with apparent interest. At the corner of the way there stood a drug store brilliantly glaring with electric lights. When they came into this glare cach of the companions turned simultancously to gaze upon each other’s face. The man from the West stopped suddenly and released his arm. He snapped with bitter distrust that he was not Jimmy Wells. He explained that twenty years was a long time but not long enough to change man’s nose from a Roman to a pug. That is why he stopped and released his hand.