d for
the shore than Condon hailed a canoe upon the other side of the ship,
and after bargaining with its owner finally lowered his baggage and
himself aboard. Once ashore he kept out of sight of the two-story
atrocity that bore the legend "Hotel" to lure unsuspecting wayfarers to
its multitudinous discomforts. It was quite dark before he ventured to
enter and arrange for accommodations.

In a back room upon the second floor the lad was explaining, not
without considerable difficulty, to his grandmother that he had decided
to return to England upon the next steamer. He was endeavoring to make
it plain to the old lady that she might remain in Africa if she wished
but that for his part his conscience demanded that he return to his
father and mother, who doubtless were even now suffering untold sorrow
because of his absence; from which it may be assumed that his parents
had not been acquainted with the plans that he and the old lady had
made for their adventure into African wilds.

Having come to a decision the lad felt a sense of relief from the worry
that had haunted him for many sleepless nights. When he closed his
eyes in sleep it was to dream of a happy reunion with those at home.
And as he dreamed, Fate, cruel and inexorable, crept stealthily upon
him through the dark corridor of the squalid building in which he
slept--Fate in the form of the American crook, Condon.

Cautiously the man approached the door of the lad's room. There he
crouched listening until assured by the regular breathing of those
within that both slept. Quietly he inserted a slim, skeleton key in
the lock of the door. With deft fingers, long accustomed to the silent
manipulation of the bars and bolts that guarded other men's property,
Condon turned the key and the knob simultaneously. Gentle pressure
upon the door swung it slowly inward upon its hinges. The man entered
the room, closing the door behind him. The moon was temporarily
overcast by heavy clouds. The interior of the apartment was shrouded
in gloom. Condon groped his way toward the bed. In the far corner of
the room something moved--moved with a silent stealthiness which
transcended even the trained silence of the burglar. Condon heard
nothing. His attention was riveted upon the bed in which he thought to
find a young boy and his helpless, invalid grandmother.

The American sought only the bank roll. If he could possess himself of
this without detection, well and good;