t, with a roof seen above the low underbrush of young pines,
holly and sweet gum, was a building of some kind toward which the path
turned abruptly. A hundred yards ahead the woods ceased, and Gus knew
that beyond were the ever-shifting sand dunes crowned with their
short-lived scrub oaks or pines and tufts of beach grass which bordered
a wild and lonely shore for many miles. Twelve miles to the south was a
somewhat popular seaside resort.

Gus had not crossed the woods at this spot, though he had at some other
very similar places. He had been all along the beach and had boated on
the thoroughfare clear to the inlet. This was nowhere deep enough for
even a large sloop. But he was thinking less of this than of a very
possible opportunity that seemed to loom ahead.

"What your name?" asked the Italian.

"Sam is my name," said Gus.

"Now then, Sam, you stay here. If some man who no business has here come
to look, you give order to go--see? You say this your father's ground
and no--what you call?--trespass. All this day you stay. To-morrow you
come, also. Two dollar you get each day, eh?"

"Thought it was _big_ money. Mebbe I'll have t' shoot somebody an' I
will, quick. But----"

"We give three dollar, Sam, and you stay with us. If not and somebody
comes you get nothing but this." The man slapped his pocket. "But no, we
friends, eh? And you will shoot?"

"You bet I will!" said Gus, and meant it. But whom would he shoot? He
was not saying.

The man went toward the building and presently came back with a modern,
high-powered rifle. He edged off through the woods to the left. After a
while he came back with another fellow and they fell to talking in a
language which Gus could not understand. They stopped for the new man to
look Gus over and the boy turned his head to gaze at none other than his
late schoolmate and bitter antagonist, Luigi Malatesta!

The general resemblance between the two men made Gus know that he had
been talking to the older brother. Luigi, the younger, went off. At that
distance he could not have recognized Gus, though for one moment the boy
had a queer feeling, a real bit of fright, but not enough to rob him of
the quick sense to be ready with his gun if his enemy had guessed his
identity. On second thought Gus felt pretty sure that if he kept his
ragged hat well pulled down Luigi would never know him.

And Gus was tremendously elated, so much so that he could hardly keep
from prancing or slap