slatternly
maid, who informed the visitor that she guessed Mr. Pearson was in;
he 'most always was around lunch time. So Captain Elisha waited in a
typical boarding-house parlor, before a grate with no fire in it and
surrounded by walnut and plush furniture, until Pearson himself came
hurrying downstairs.

"Say, you're a brick, Captain Warren!" he declared, as they shook hands.
"I hoped you'd come to-day. Why haven't you before?"

The captain explained his having mislaid the address.

"Oh, was that it? Then I'm glad I reminded you. Rather a cheeky thing to
do, but I've been a reporter, and nerve is necessary in that profession.
I began to be afraid living among the blue-bloods had had its effect,
and you were getting finicky as to your acquaintances."

"You didn't believe any such thing."

"Didn't I? Well, perhaps I didn't. Come up to my room. I think we can
just about squeeze in, if you don't mind sitting close."

Pearson's room was on the third flight, at the front of the house.
Through the window one saw the upper half of the buildings opposite, and
above them a stretch of sky. The bed was a small brass and iron affair,
but the rest of the furniture was of good quality, the chairs were
easy and comfortable, and the walls were thickly hung with photographs,
framed drawings, and prints.

"I put those up to cover the wall paper," explained the host. "I don't
offer them as an art collection, but as a screen. Sit down. Put your
coat on the bed. Shall I close the window? I usually keep the upper
half open to let out the pipe smoke. Otherwise I might not be able to
navigate without fog signals."

His visitor chuckled, followed directions with his coat and hat, and sat
down. Pearson took the chair by the small flat-topped desk.

"How about that window?" he asked. "Shall I shut it?"

"No, no! We'll be warm enough, I guess. You've got steam heat, I see."

"You mean you hear. Those pipes make noise enough to wake the dead. At
first I thought I couldn't sleep because of the racket they made. Now I
doubt if I could without it. Would you consider a cigar, Captain?"

"Hum! I don't usually stop to consider. But I tell you, Jim--just now
you said something about a pipe. I've got mine aboard, but I ain't dared
to smoke it since I left South Denboro. If you wouldn't mind--"

"Not a bit. Tobacco in this jar on the desk. I keep a temporary supply
in my jacket pocket. Matches? Here you are! What do you think of
my--er--sta