who did
not set him down for a half-crazy, or, at least, an over-sanguine
visionary--but now--they bound like stags before him, and none more
propitiatingly agile than the former satellites of our deposed bosun. A
Don Quixote"--murmured the passenger--"maybe, but a 20th century Don
Quixote--with a wallop in each hand. If the Don Quixotes generally had
his equipment, it would not be windmills alone which would suffer, and
some joy then for honest men to watch the tilting."

Jan Tingloff

THE LODGING HOUSE

Jan Tingloff, not wishing to get too far away from the dry dock, turned
up a side street near the water-front, and there, in a basement window
of a narrow four-story brick building, he saw the sign "Furnished Room
to Rent."

A second look showed Jan that the basement also afforded an entrance to
a not too well lit pool-room and that a not overclean alley ran up one
side of the building. Jan, with no prejudices against alleys or
pool-rooms, entered the pool-room to inquire. "Yeh," said the man behind
the cigar-case--"second floor--a week in advance--ring the front-door
bell--a woman will come and show you."

A woman who preceded him like a discouraged shadow showed him the room,
but it was to the man in the basement that she told Jan to pay the
week's rent when he said he would take the room. "Yes; I take the
rent--always," this man said; and his eyes brightened as Jan pushed the
money across the cigar-case at him. And he wore finger-rings out of all
keeping with the dark little place; but he had a pleasant smile for Jan
and Jan smiled back at him; for Jan was one of those friendly natures
who prefer to be pleasant, even to men whose looks they do not like.

Jan Tingloff slept in his new quarters that night. He saw nobody
connected with the house as he passed out in the morning; but that
evening as he entered the front-door he heard a cough. It was a woman's
cough and dimly he saw a woman's form--a rather slender form. Jan's
senses were the kind which see a thing large at first and then go back
for details. He hurried to close the door so that the cold November wind
would not endanger the poor creature further. As he closed the door she
said:

"Good evening."

Jan hurried to take off his hat.

"Good evening, ma'am."

"You go off early mornings, captain?"

"Yes, ma'am." He peered into the twilight of the hall and saw a hand
lighting the suspension lamp. "But I'm not a captain, ma'am. I was a
seafa