rned with greediness as a large crab was handed
to him. It was a shell with legs and all complete, but the meat had long
since departed. With shaky fingers and babblings of anticipation, the
old man broke off a leg and found it filled with emptiness.

"The crabs, Hoo-Hoo?" he wailed. "The crabs?"

"I was fooling Granser. They ain't no crabs! I never found one."

The boys were overwhelmed with delight at sight of the tears of senile
disappointment that dribbled down the old man's cheeks. Then, unnoticed,
Hoo-Hoo replaced the empty shell with a fresh-cooked crab. Already
dismembered, from the cracked legs the white meat sent forth a small
cloud of savory steam. This attracted the old man's nostrils, and he
looked down in amazement.

[Illustration: This attracted the old man's nostrils 033]

The change of his mood to one of joy was immediate. He snuffled and
muttered and mumbled, making almost a croon of delight, as he began
to eat. Of this the boys took little notice, for it was an accustomed
spectacle. Nor did they notice his occasional exclamations and
utterances of phrases which meant nothing to them, as, for instance,
when he smacked his lips and champed his gums while muttering:
"Mayonnaise! Just think--mayonnaise! And it's sixty years since the last
was ever made! Two generations and never a smell of it! Why, in those
days it was served in every restaurant with crab."

When he could eat no more, the old man sighed, wiped his hands on his
naked legs, and gazed out over the sea. With the content of a full
stomach, he waxed reminiscent.

"To think of it! I've seen this beach alive with men, women, and
children on a pleasant Sunday. And there weren't any bears to eat them
up, either. And right up there on the cliff was a big restaurant where
you could get anything you wanted to eat. Four million people lived in
San Francisco then. And now, in the whole city and county there aren't
forty all told. And out there on the sea were ships and ships always to
be seen, going in for the Golden Gate or coming out. And airships in the
air--dirigibles and flying machines. They could travel two hundred miles
an hour. The mail contracts with the New York and San Francisco Limited
demanded that for the minimum. There was a chap, a Frenchman, I forget
his name, who succeeded in making three hundred; but the thing was
risky, too risky for conservative persons. But he was on the right clew,
and he would have managed it if it hadn't