hus did the wily Mr. Mitchell justify his headship. In these profuse
strains of unpremeditated art, apparently the merest of rambling
commonplace, he had plainly conveyed to his henchmen that, though
foiled by the countryman's straightforward single-mindedness, they
were not to adopt a policy of scuttle, but persevere in the paths of
manifest destiny to benevolent assimilation; at the same time
adroitly extricating his embarrassed lieutenant from a very present
predicament. Because "Archibald" felt a certain reluctance about
accompanying Steve to Pier Number 4 in the capacity of owner, for the
sufficiently obvious reason that he might be summarily kicked off.
Such a contretemps might give cause for conjecture even in one so
green as his companion, reflected Archie.

He saluted with easy grace. "Orders, captain? Happy to oblige. My
friend's friend is my friend."

Steve saw the big steamships. Thence, at his artless suggestion, they
went to Brooklyn Bridge. Followed rides on the Subway and Elevated,
a viewing of skyscrapers and such innocent and exhilarating delights.
Noting Archibald's well-groomed and natty appearance, Steve naively
asked his advice in matters sartorial, purchasing much raiment and
leaving an order with a fashionable tailor. But, after an _amazing_
dinner at an uptown house of call, Archibald took the reins into his
own guidance, and led him forth to quite other distractions--in the
agricultural quarter of the city, where that popular and ever-blooming
cereal, wild oats, is sown by night and by day.

Behind them the plausible Mr. Mitchell and his old friend's son held
high commune.

"Why, the lantern-jawed, bug-eyed, rubber-necked, double-jointed,
knock-kneed, splay-foot, hair-lipped, putty-brained country Jake!
Did you see him sidestep that?" demanded the aggrieved Bickford,
forgetting, in his pique, his stricken father. "What you want to do
to him is to sandbag him, give him knockout drops, stab him under the
fifth rib! He's too elusive--the devil-sent----" He was proceeding to
further particulars when Mitchell checked him.

"I want you to bear in mind that this is no strong-arm gang, and I'm
neither dip nor climber." His emphasis was withering. "My credit is
involved in this affair now, and I'm going through with it. If he'd
had the dough with him he'd handed it out just like he did the check.
He floundered out through pure, unadulterated innocence. I'll land him
yet. Next time I won't leave th