WILD ANIMALS AND MEN 219 



"I feel greatly disappointed in you, Mr. Porter," Margaret 

 Anglin said to Bill as we took our places at the table. 



"In what have I failed?" 



"You promised to bring your Western friend — that terrible 

 Mr. Jennings — to criticize the play." 



"Well, I have introduced him." He waved his hand down 

 toward me. 



Miss Anglin looked me over with the trace of a smile in her 

 eye. 



"Pardon me," she said, "but I can hardly associate you 

 with the lovely things they say of you. Did you like the 

 play?" 



I told her I didn't. It was unreal. No man of the West 

 would shake dice for a lady in distress. The situation was un- 

 heard of and could only occur in the imagination of a fat- 

 headed Easterner who had never set his feet beyond the 

 Hudson. 



Miss Anglin laughed merrily. "New York is wild over it; 

 New York doesn't know any better." 



Porter sat back, an expansive smile spreading a light in his 

 gray eyes. 



"I am inclined to agree with our friend," he offered. "The 

 West is unacquainted with Manhattan chivalry." 



That is the truth in a sentence; and while 0. Henry and 

 Jennings have spoken for the West, may I add my own exper- 

 ience of wilderness men and say that the North, also, is unac- 

 quainted with Manhattan chivalry. 



LAW AND ORDER ENFORCED 



Furthermore, while upon this subject, I wish to add to my 

 own protest against the novelists' wild dreams of outlawry in 

 the Canadian wilderness, a quotation from E. Ward Smith's 

 "Chronicles of the Klondyke." Mr. Smith — as you no doubt 



