g for me," warned the
proprietor. "And if you ever want another job in Marion you may be
blacklisted. I don't want to get you into a scrape."

"I can't be in any worse scrape than the one I am in now. Haven't I just
told you who I am?"

"Oh, I know that! I reckon you're the same fellow. But, see here,
mister, I'm one of those simple kind of galoots--and the less a man
knows the more suspicious he is. You ain't wanting to work for me just
because you need a job!"

"I do need a job! I have spent the little money I had by me after I was
fired by the Consolidated. I had some special expenses--the funeral of
a--a friend," he added, wistfulness in his tones. He drove his hand into
his pockets and exhibited a few small coins in his palm when he pulled
his hand out. "That's my cash--every cent of it!"

"Sure! I see it. But money's easy enough to come at by a fellow like you
when he needs it. You haven't come across all square with me yet!" It
was not mere inquisitiveness; it was the insistence of a plain man who
wanted a definite peg on which to hitch the first warp of association.
"You've got to handle money of mine," he went on. "I'm in a tight place
and I have got to have the right men tied up with me. I wouldn't have to
ask one of those boys yonder why he wanted to lug ice. But you ain't no
ordinary slouch, mister. You don't do things--not many of 'em--unless
you've got a good reason for same." It was the instinct of
ingenuousness. "Keep it all to yourself if you want to. But in that case
you'll have to excuse _me_!"

Farr did not hesitate. He smiled.

"You're a down-on-the-ground fellow who may be able to understand the
thing better than I do myself," he declared. Again he put his hand on
the bent shoulder.

"You didn't break loose from a good job and start this ice business here
simply to make more money, did you?"

"Well, I've got a family to support and I wanted to make some money,
of course, but I thought it was about time to have less relics, germs,
curiosities, microbes, and general knickknacks left in ice-boxes
after the ice had melted. So I went out of the frozen museum business,
mister." His voice softened suddenly. "We lost a little girl a year ago
last summer. Typhoid!"

"I lost a little girl--a friend," said Farr, patting the shoulder. "It's
this way with me--What is your name?"

"Freeland Nowell."

"Mr. Nowell, I have poked more or less fun in my life at men who claimed
to have missions. Perhaps