ster lumbermen--the
rest were plainly drummers or hayseeds. And in these two Thorpe
recognized Daly and Morrison themselves. They passed within ten feet of
him, talking earnestly together. At the curb they hailed a cab and drove
away. Thorpe with satisfaction heard them call the name of a hotel.

It was still two hours before the Land Office would be open. Thorpe
ate breakfast at the depot and wandered slowly up Jefferson Avenue
to Woodward, a strange piece of our country's medievalism in modern
surroundings. He was so occupied with his own thoughts that for some
time he remained unconscious of the attention he was attracting. Then,
with a start, he felt that everyone was staring at him. The hour was
early, so that few besides the working classes were abroad, but he
passed one lady driving leisurely to an early train whose frank scrutiny
brought him to himself. He became conscious that his broad hat was
weather-soiled and limp, that his flannel shirt was faded, that his
"pepper and salt" trousers were patched, that moccasins must seem as
anachronistic as chain mail. It abashed him. He could not know that
it was all wild and picturesque, that his straight and muscular figure
moved with a grace quite its own and the woods', that the bronze of his
skin contrasted splendidly with the clearness of his eye, that his whole
bearing expressed the serene power that comes only from the confidence
of battle. The woman in the carriage saw it, however.

"He is magnificent!" she cried. "I thought such men had died with
Cooper!"

Thorpe whirled sharp on his heel and returned at once to a
boarding-house off Fort Street, where he had "outfitted" three months
before. There he reclaimed his valise, shaved, clothed himself in linen
and cheviot once more, and sauntered slowly over to the Land Office to
await its opening.

Chapter XXIII

At nine o'clock neither of the partners had appeared. Thorpe entered the
office and approached the desk.

"Is there a telegram here for Harry Thorpe?" he inquired.

The clerk to whom he addressed himself merely motioned with his head
toward a young fellow behind the railing in a corner. The latter,
without awaiting the question, shifted comfortably and replied:

"No."

At the same instant steps were heard in the corridor, the door opened,
and Mr. Morrison appeared on the sill. Then Thorpe showed the stuff of
which he was made.

"Is this the desk for buying Government lands?" he asked hurrie