o the freight piles on the levee at Cairo.

As Guilford Duncan emerged from the alley-way between the cotton bales
and reached the street at top of the levee, a still burning fragment of
the fireworks fell upon a bale of which the bagging was badly torn,
exposing the lint cotton in a way very tempting to fire. With the
instinct of the soldier he instantly climbed to the top of the pile,
tore away the burning bunches of lint cotton, and threw them to the
ground, thus preventing further harm.

As he climbed down again a man confronted him.

"Are you a watchman?" asked the man.

"No, I'm only a man in search of work."

"Why did you do that, then?" queried the stranger, pointing to the still
burning cotton scattered on the ground.

"On general principles, I suppose," answered Duncan. "There would have
been a terrible fire if I hadn't."

"What's your name?"

"Guilford Duncan."

"Want work?"

"Yes."

"What sort?"

"Any sort--for good wages." That last phrase was the result of his
stoker experience.

"Well, do you want to watch this cotton to-night and see that no harm
comes to it, either from fire, or--what's worse--the cotton thieves that
go down the alleys, pulling out all the lint they can from the torn
bales?"

"Yes, if I can have fair wages."

"Will three dollars for the night be fair wages?"

"Yes--ample. How far does your freight extend up and down the levee?"

"It's pretty nearly all mine, but I have other watchmen on other parts
of it. This is a new cargo. Your beat will extend----" and he gave the
young man his boundaries.

"You'll be off duty at sunrise. Come to me at seven o'clock for your
pay. I'm Captain Will Hallam. Anybody in Cairo will tell you where my
office is. Good-night."

This was an excellent beginning, Duncan thought. Three dollars was more
money than he had carried in his pocket at any time since he had bought
his suit of clothes at Wheeling. Better still, the promptitude with
which employment had thus come to him was encouraging, although the
employment was but for a night. And when he reflected that he had won
favor by doing what seemed to him an act of ordinary duty, he was
disposed to regard the circumstance as another lesson in the new service
of work.

The night passed without event of consequence. There were two or three
little fires born of the holiday celebration, but Guilford Duncan
managed to suppress them without difficulty. Later in the night the
swarm of cot