moving his lip and his loose nose.

"'Some luck, Governor, and some sleuthin'. It was like this: I thought
you was stringin' me. But I said to myself I'll keep out an eye; maybe
it's on the level--any damn thing can happen.'

"He put up his hand as though to hook his thumb into the armhole of his
vest, remembered that he had only a coat buttoned round him and dropped
it.

"'And believe me or not, Governor, it's the God's truth. About four
o'clock up toward the Inlet I passed a big, well-dressed, banker-looking
gent walking stiff from the hip and throwing out his leg. "Come eleven!"
I said to myself. "It's the goose-step!" I had an empty roller, and I
took a turn over to him.

"'"Chair, Admiral?" I said.

"'He looked at me sort of queer.

"'"What makes you think I'm an admiral, my man?" he answers.

"'"Well," I says, lounging over on one foot reflective like, "nobody
could be a-viewin' the sea with that lovin', ownership look unless he'd
bossed her a bit.... If I'm right, Admiral, you takes the chair."

"'He laughed, but he got in. "I'm not an admiral," he said, "but it is
true that I've followed the sea."'

"The hobo paused, and put up his first and second fingers spread like a
V.

"'Two points, Governor--the gent had been a sailor and a soldier; now
how about the tanner business?'

"He scratched his head, moving the ridiculous cap.

"'That sort of puzzled me, and I pussyfooted along toward the Inlet
thinkin' about it. If a man was a tanner, and especially a foreign,
hand-workin' tanner, what would his markin's be?

"'I tried to remember everybody that I'd ever seen handlin' a hide, and
all at once I recollected that the first thing a dago shoemaker done
when he picked up a piece of leather was to smooth it out with his
thumbs. An' I said to myself, now that'll be what a tanner does, only he
does it more ... he's always doing it. Then I asks myself what would be
the markin's?'

"The hobo paused, his mouth open, his head twisted to one side. Then he
jerked up as under a released spring.

"'And right away, Governor, I got the answer to it--flat thumbs!'

"The hobo stepped back with an air of victory and flashed his hand up.

"'And he had 'em! I asked him what time it was so I could keep the hour
straight for McDuyal, I told him, but the real reason was so I could see
his hands.'"

Walker crossed one leg over the other.

"It was clever," he said, "and I hesitated to shatter it. But the
question had