ating a large, stiff, yellow hat with an enormous brim, that
was placed on the floor before him. His hands rested lightly between his
knees, but one foot was drawn up at the side of his chair in a peculiar
manner. In the first glance that Islington gave, the attitude in some
odd, irreconcilable way suggested a brake. In another moment he dashed
across the room, and, holding out both hands, cried, "Yuba Bill!"

The man rose, caught Islington by the shoulders, wheeled him round,
hugged him, felt of his ribs like a good-natured ogre, shook his hands
violently, laughed, and then said, somewhat ruefully, "And how ever did
you know me?"

Seeing that Yuba Bill evidently regarded himself as in some elaborate
disguise, Islington laughed, and suggested that it must have been
instinct.

"And you?" said Bill, holding him at arm's length, and surveying him
critically,--"you!--toe think--toe think--a little cuss no higher nor a
trace, a boy as I've flicked outer the road with a whip time in agin, a
boy ez never hed much clothes to speak of, turned into a sport!"

Islington remembered, with a thrill of ludicrous terror, that he still
wore his evening dress.

"Turned," continued Yuba Bill, severely,--"turned into a restyourant
waiter,--a garsong! Eh, Alfonse, bring me a patty de foy grass and an
omelette, demme!"

"Dear old chap!" said Islington, laughing, and trying to put his
hand over Bill's bearded mouth, "but you--YOU don't look exactly like
yourself! You're not well, Bill." And indeed, as he turned toward the
light, Bill's eyes appeared cavernous, and his hair and beard thickly
streaked with gray.

"Maybe it's this yer harness," said Bill, a little anxiously. "When I
hitches on this yer curb" (he indicated a massive gold watch-chain with
enormous links), "and mounts this 'morning star,'" (he pointed to a very
large solitaire pin which had the appearance of blistering his whole
shirt-front), "it kinder weighs heavy on me, Tommy. Otherwise I'm all
right, my boy,--all right." But he evaded Islington's keen eye, and
turned from the light.

"You have something to tell me, Bill," said Islington, suddenly, and
with almost brusque directness; "out with it."

Bill did not speak, but moved uneasily toward his hat.

"You didn't come three thousand miles, without a word of warning, to
talk to me of old times," said Islington, more kindly, "glad as I would
have been to see you. It isn't your way, Bill, and you know it. We shall
n