as had numerous indignant relatives and friends, the
particulars of the shocking affair which had compelled the Faculty to
discipline Mr. Carrington; and she could but agree with her family that
her happiness would rest upon insecure ground if trusted to the inciter
and principal offender in such a terrible transaction. He was to forget
her at once, as she would try to forget him.

Caroline and her mamma sailed for Europe the next day, and several
letters Carrington wrote to her, giving a less censurable version of the
little dinner to the little instructor, were returned to him unopened.

After receiving his delayed degree Carrington began a tour around the
world. In the court of the Palace Hotel, the day of his departure from
San Francisco, a commonplace-looking man stepped up to him briskly, and
said, placing a hand on his shoulder: "Presidio, you've got a nerve to
come back here. You, to the ferry; or with me to the captain!"

Carrington turned his full face toward the man for the first time as he
brushed aside the hand with some force. The man reddened, blinked, and
then stammered: "Excuse me, but you did look so--Say, you must excuse
me, for I see that you are a gentleman."

"Isn't Presidio a gentleman?" Carrington asked, good-naturedly, when he
saw that the man's confusion was genuine.

"Why, Presidio is--do you mind sitting down at one of these tables? I
feel a little shaky--making such a break!"

He explained that he was the hotel's detective, and had been on the
city's police force. In both places he had dealings with a confidence
man, called Presidio--after the part of the city he came from. Presidio
was an odd lot; had enough skill in several occupations to earn honest
wages, but seemed unable to forego the pleasure of exercising his wit in
confidence games and sneak-thievery. Among his honest accomplishments
was the ability to perform sleight-of-hand tricks well enough to work
profitably in the lesser theater circuits. He had married a woman who
made part of the show Presidio operated for a time--a good-looking
woman, but as ready to turn a confidence trick as to help her husband's
stage work, or do a song and dance as an interlude. They had been warned
to leave San Francisco for a year, and not to return then, unless
bringing proof that they had walked in moral paths during their exile.

"And you mistook me for Presidio?" asked Carrington, with the manner of
one flattered.

"For a second, and seei