ay, although his rooms were taken by the week. He seemed
considerable put out: I reckon it was a death."

My heart sank; perhaps my idiotic jest had indeed driven him away;
and again I asked myself, Why? and whirled for a moment in a vortex of
untenable hypotheses.

"What was he like, ma'am?" Pinkerton was asking, when I returned to
consciousness of my surroundings.

"A clean shaved man," said the woman, and could be led or driven into no
more significant description.

"Pull up at the nearest drug-store," said Pinkerton to the driver; and
when there, the telephone was put in operation, and the message sped to
the Pacific Mail Steamship Company's office--this was in the days
before Spreckels had arisen--"When does the next China steamer touch at
Honolulu?"

"The City of Pekin; she cast off the dock to-day, at half-past one,"
came the reply.

"It's a clear case of bolt," said Jim. "He's skipped, or my name's not
Pinkerton. He's gone to head us off at Midway Island."

Somehow I was not so sure; there were elements in the case, not known
to Pinkerton--the fears of the captain, for example--that inclined me
otherwise; and the idea that I had terrified Mr. Dickson into flight,
though resting on so slender a foundation, clung obstinately in my mind.
"Shouldn't we see the list of passengers?" I asked.

"Dickson is such a blamed common name," returned Jim; "and then, as like
as not, he would change it."

At this I had another intuition. A negative of a street scene, taken
unconsciously when I was absorbed in other thought, rose in my memory
with not a feature blurred: a view, from Bellairs's door as we were
coming down, of muddy roadway, passing drays, matted telegraph wires,
a Chinaboy with a basket on his head, and (almost opposite) a corner
grocery with the name of Dickson in great gilt letters.

"Yes," said I, "you are right; he would change it. And anyway, I don't
believe it was his name at all; I believe he took it from a corner
grocery beside Bellairs's."

"As like as not," said Jim, still standing on the sidewalk with
contracted brows.

"Well, what shall we do next?" I asked.

"The natural thing would be to rush the schooner," he replied. "But I
don't know. I telephoned the captain to go at it head down and heels in
air; he answered like a little man; and I guess he's getting around. I
believe, Loudon, we'll give Trent a chance. Trent was in it; he was
in it up to the neck; even if he couldn't buy, he co