_ it!"

"Don't know you are you!" exclaimed Deering.

"You never said a truer word! More than that, they're not likely to!
There are things, son, I--Hood, the frankest of mortals--can't tell even
you! I, Hood, the inexplicable; Hood, the prince of tramps, the
connoisseur in all the arts--even I must have my secrets; but in time, my
dear boy, in time you shall know everything! But there's work before us!
The long arm of coincidence beckons us. We shall test for ourselves all
the claptrap of the highest-priced novelists."

Deering walked to the window and stared out at the landscape, then strode
toward Hood angrily.

"I don't like this!" he wailed despairingly. "You promised to help me
find those stolen bonds, and now you're talking like a lunatic again. If
I can't find the bonds, I've got to find Ranscomb, and get back that
first two hundred thousand I gave him. I can't stand this--detectives
waiting for us wherever we stop, and you babbling rot--rot--" Words
failed him; he clinched his hands and glared.

"Don't bluster, son, or I shall grow peevish," Hood replied tolerantly.
"At the present moment I feel like taking a walk under the mystical May
stars. The night invites the soul to meditation; the stars may have the
answer to all our perplexities. Stop fretting about your bonds and your
friend Ranscomb; very likely he's busted, clean broke; that's what usually
happens to fellows who take money from their friends and put it into the
metals. Possibly he swallowed poison, and went to sleep forever just to
escape your wrath. Let us take counsel of the heavens and try to forget
your sins. We must still move the way the slipper pointed--northeast. The
road bends away from the inn just right for a fresh start. We depart, we
skip, we are on our way, my dear boy!"

They had walked nearly a mile when Deering announced that he was tired,
and refused to go farther. He clambered upon a stone wall at the
roadside. On a high ridge some distance away and etched against the stars
was a long, low house.

"Splendid type of bungalow," Hood commented, throwing his legs over the
wall. "I'm glad you have an eye for nice effects--the roof makes a pretty
line against the stars, and those pines beyond add a touch--a distinct
touch. Bungalows should always be planned with a view to night effects;
too bad architects don't always consider little points like that."

Deering growled angrily. Suddenly as his eyes gazed over the long,
sloping