s in indecision, the handsome stranger approached him.

"Good evening to you," he said curtly. His rich, musical voice, for all
its deepness, held a faint hint of the tremulous, birdlike notes heard
in the voice of a young child who has not used his vocal chords long
enough for them to have lost their exquisite newness.

"Good evening," echoed Northwood, somewhat uncertainly. A sudden aura of
repulsion swept coldly over him. Seen close, with the brilliant light of
the street directly on his too perfect face, the man was more sinister
than in the cafe. Yet Northwood, struggling desperately for a reason to
explain his violent dislike, could not discover why he shrank from this
splendid creature, whose eyes and flesh had a new, fresh appearance
rarely seen except in very young boys.

"I want what you picked up," went on the stranger.

"It isn't yours!" Northwood flashed back. Ah! that effluvium of hatred
which seemed to weave a tangible net around him!

"Nor is it yours. Give it to me!"

"You're insolent, aren't you?"

"If you don't give it to me, you will be sorry." The man did not raise
his voice in anger, yet the words whipped Northwood with almost physical
violence. "If he knew that I saw everything that happened in there--that
I am talking to you at this moment--he would tremble with fear."

"But you can't intimidate me."

"No?" For a long moment, the cold blue eyes held his contemptuously.
"No? I can't frighten you--you worm of the Black Age?"

Before Northwood's horrified sight, he vanished; vanished as though he
had turned suddenly to air and floated away.

* * * * *

The street was not crowded at that time, and there was no pressing group
of bodies to hide the splendid creature. Northwood gawked stupidly,
mouth half open, eyes searching wildly everywhere. The man was gone. He
had simply disappeared, in this sane, electric-lighted street.

Suddenly, close to Northwood's ear, grated a derisive laugh. "I can't
frighten you?" From nowhere came that singularly young-old voice.

As Northwood jerked his head around to meet blank space, a blow struck
the corner of his mouth. He felt the warm blood run over his chin.

"I could take that wallet from you, worm, but you may keep it, and see
me later. But remember this--the thing inside never will be yours."

The words fell from empty air.

For several minutes, Northwood waited at the spot, expecting another
demonstration of th