discharged at the Presidio."

"Oh, I see," smiling again, and tapping the wheel with his stick; "the
army--foreign service?"

"The Philippines three years; invalided home."

"By God, you don't look it," his eyes on me. "Never saw a more perfect
animal. Fever?"

"No, bolo wound; got caught in the brush, and then lay out in a swamp
all night, till our fellows got up."

He looked at his watch, and I climbed into my seat. "See here, I have
n't time to talk now, but I believe you are the very fellow I am
looking for. If you want an easier job than this," waving a gloved
hand toward the pile of lumber, "come and see me and we 'll talk it
over." He took a card out of a morocco case, and wrote a line on it.
"Come to that address at nine o'clock tonight."

I took the bit of pasteboard as he handed it up.

"All right, sir, I 'll be there on time."

"Come to the side door," he added swiftly, lowering his voice, "the one
on the south. Give three raps. By the way, what is your name?"

"Gordon Craig," I answered without pausing to think. His eyes twinkled
shrewdly.

"Ever been known by any other?"

"I enlisted under another; I ran away from home, and was not of age."

"Oh, I see; well, that makes no difference to me. Don't forget, Craig,
the side door at nine."

I glanced back as we turned the corner; he was still standing at the
edge of the walk, tapping the concrete with his cane. Out of sight I
looked curiously at the card. It was the advertisement of a clothing
house, and on the back was written "P. B. Neale, 108 Chestnut Street."

The mules walked the half dozen blocks back to the lumber yard, while
my mind reviewed this conversation. There was a bit of mystery to it
which had fascination, because of a vague promise of adventure.
Evidently this man Neale had need of a stranger to help him out in some
scheme, and had picked me by chance as being the right party. Well, if
the pay was good, and the purpose not criminal, I had no objections to
the spice of danger. Indeed, that was what I loved in life, my heart
throbbing eagerly in anticipation. I was young, full-blooded, strong,
willing enough to take desperate chances for sufficient reward. There
was a suspicion in my mind that all was not straight--Neale's
questions, and the private signals to be given at a side door left that
impression--yet I could only wait and learn, and besides, my conscience
was not overly delicate. I had lived among a roug