austere
face.

The old man threw the mail-bag across his shoulder.

"I'll take thee as far as the store. Thee can see most of the city from
there."

The young fellow laughed noisily, and hooked his arm through his
companion's gaunt elbow. Enoch glanced down at the grimy, broken-nailed,
disreputable hand on his arm, and a faint flush showed itself under the
silvery stubble on his cheeks.

"By gum, this town's a daisy," said the stranger, sniffing the
honey-laden breeze appreciatively and glancing out over the sea of wild
flowers that waved and shimmered under the California sun; "nice quiet
little place--eh?"

"Thee hears all the noise there is," answered Enoch gravely.

The young fellow gave a yell of delight and bent over as if the shaft of
Enoch's wit had struck him in some vital part. Then he disengaged his
arm and writhed in an agony of mirth.

"Holy Moses!" he gasped, "that's good. Hit 'im again, uncle."

Enoch stood still and looked at him, a mild, contemptuous sympathy
twinkling in his blue eyes.

"Is thee looking for a quiet place?" he asked.

The newcomer reduced his hilarity to an intermittent chuckle, and
resumed his affectionate grasp on Enoch's arm.

"That's about the size of it, uncle. I've knocked around a good deal,
and I'm suffering from religious prostration. I'm looking for a nice,
quiet, healthy place to take a rest--to recooperate my morals, so to
speak. Good climate, good water, good society. Everything they don't
have in--some places. What's the city tax on first-class residence
property close in?"

"I think thee'll find it within thy means," said Enoch dryly. "Has thee
a family?"

"Well, you might say--yes," rejoined the stranger, "that is, I'm
married. My wife's not very well. I want to build a seven by nine
residence on a fashionable street and send for her. I'm going to draw up
the plans and specifications and bid on the contract myself, and I think
by rustling the foreman I can get everything but the telephone and the
hot water in before she gets here. Relic of the ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay?" he
asked, pointing to a vacant store building across the grass-grown
street; "or bought up by the government, maybe, to keep out competition
in the post-office business--hello, is this where you hang out?"

Enoch turned into the combined store and post-office, and the stranger
stood on the platform, bestowing his tobacco-stained smile generously
upon the bystanders.

"Thee'll find the hot