ful genius, battling with great odds in his honest
struggle to give the world something of value in return for what it
had given him? The quick, almost deprecatory glance he darted at
George betrayed his dismay; a dismay which George had begun to share,
notwithstanding his growing belief that the man's face was not wholly
unknown to him even if he could not recognise it as the one he had seen
outside the Clermont.

"You seem to have forgotten your errand," came in quiet, if not
good-natured, sarcasm from their patiently waiting host.

"It's the room," muttered Sweetwater, with an attempt at his old-time
ease which was not as fully successful as usual. "What an all-fired
genius you must be. I never saw the like. And in a tenement house too!
You ought to be in one of those big new studio buildings in New York
where artists be and everything you see is beautiful. You'd appreciate
it, you would."

The detective started, George started, at the gleam which answered him
from a very uncommon eye. It was a temporary flash, however, and quickly
veiled, and the tone in which this Dunn now spoke was anything but an
encouraging one.

"I thought you were desirous of joining a socialistic fraternity," said
he; "a true aspirant for such honours don't care for beautiful things
unless all can have them. I prefer my tenement. How is it with you,
friends?"

Sweetwater found some sort of a reply, though the thing which this man
now did must have startled him, as it certainly did George. They were so
grouped that a table quite full of anomalous objects stood at the
back of their host, and consequently quite beyond their own reach. As
Sweetwater began to speak, he whom he had addressed by the name of Dunn,
drew a pistol from his breast pocket and laid it down barrel towards
them on this table top. Then he looked up courteously enough, and
listened till Sweetwater was done. A very handsome man, but one not to
be trifled with in the slightest degree. Both recognised this fact, and
George, for one, began to edge towards the door.

"Now I feel easier," remarked the giant, swelling out his chest. He was
unusually tall, as well as unusually muscular. "I never like to carry
arms; but sometimes it is unavoidable. Damn it, what hands!" He was
looking at his own, which certainly showed soil. "Will you pardon me?"
he pleasantly apologised, stepping towards a washstand and plunging his
hands into the basin. "I cannot think with dirt on me like tha