ably an accomplice, of one who was "wanted" on account of forgery at
San Francisco? But he had no help for himself, and at Mrs. Jones's he
found his wife's brother-in-law seated in the bar of the
public-house,--that everlasting resort for American loungers,--with a
cigar as usual stuck in his mouth, loafing away his time as only American
frequenters of such establishments know how to do. In England such a man
would probably be found in such a place with a glass of some alcoholic
mixture beside him, but such is never the case with an American. If he
wants a drink he goes to the bar and takes it standing,--will perhaps take
two or three, one after another; but when he has settled himself down to
loafe, he satisfies himself with chewing a cigar, and covering a circle
around him with the results. With this amusement he will remain contented
hour after hour;--nay, throughout the entire day if no harder work be
demanded of him. So was Robert Lefroy found now. When Peacocke entered
the hall or room the man did not rise from his chair, but accosted him as
though they had parted only an hour since. "So, old fellow, you've got
back all alive."

"I have reached this place at any rate."

"Well; that's getting back, ain't it?"

"I have come back from San Francisco."

"H'sh!" exclaimed Lefroy, looking round the room, in which, however, there
was no one but themselves. "You needn't tell everybody where you've
been."

"I have nothing to conceal."

"That is more than anybody knows of himself. It's a good maxim to keep
your own affairs quiet till they're wanted. In this country everybody is
spry enough to learn all about everything. I never see any good in
letting them know without a reason. Well;--what did you do when you got
there?"

"It was all as you told me."

"Didn't I say so? What was the good of bringing me all this way, when, if
you'd only believed me, you might have saved me the trouble. Ain't I to
be paid for that?"

"You are to be paid. I have come here to pay you."

"That's what you owe for the knowledge. But for coming? Ain't I to be
paid extra for the journey?"

"You are to have a thousand dollars."

"H'sh!--you speak of money as though every one has a business to know that
you have got your pockets full. What's a thousand dollars, seeing all
that I have done for you!"

"It's all that you're going to get. It's all, indeed, that I have got to
give you."

"Gammon."

"It's all, at any r