e you that?" she asked. Sue looked a little taken back, but only
for a moment.

"One of the criminals," she said. Her voice was carefully casual now but
her eyes were a little excited. "He's a man who made up his mind that he
wanted to get way down to the bottom, and see how it feels to be down
there. So he took the very worst job he could find. For two years he was
a stoker--on ships of all kinds all over the world. And now that he
knows just how it feels, he has an office down on the docks where he's
getting the stokers and dockers together--getting them ready for a
strike--on your beloved harbor."

"Joe Kramer," said Eleanore quietly. Sue gave a sudden, nervous start.

"Eleanore," she severely rejoined, "sometimes you're simply uncanny--the
way you quietly jump at a thing!"

Eleanore had gone on with her knitting. I rose and lit a cigarette. I
could feel Sue's eyes upon me. So _this_ was her infernal surprise! J.
K. banging into my life again!

"How long has Joe been here?" I asked.

"About five months," Sue answered.

"He might have looked me up," I said.

"He doesn't want to look anyone up, I've only seen him once myself. He
has simply buried himself down there. Why don't you go and see him,
Billy?" she added, with a quick glance at Eleanore. "He won't amuse you
the way we do. He's one of the real criminals now."

Still Eleanore did not look up.

"What's his address?" I asked gruffly. Sue gave it to me and
good-humoredly yawned and said she must be getting home.

"Good-night, dear," said Eleanore. She had risen and come to the door.
"What a love of a hat you're wearing. It's a new one, isn't it? I caught
sight of it in the parade."

But the smile which my tall sister threw back at us from the doorway
had nothing whatever to do with hats. It said as plainly as in words:

"Now, you cozy liberals, go over and touch _that_ spot if you dare."

When she had gone I took up a book and tried to read. But I soon
gloomily relapsed. Would J. K. never leave me alone? What was he doing
with my harbor? Why should I look him up, confound him--he hadn't
bothered his head about me. But I knew that I _would_ look him up and
would find him more disturbing than ever. How he did keep moving on. No,
not on, but down, down--until now he had bumped the bottom!

"Are you going to see him?"

Glancing sharply up, I saw Eleanore carefully watching my face.

"Oh, I suppose so," I replied. She bent again to her knitting.

"