omoter and capitalist."

"A promoter and capitalist," Hiram repeated vaguely.

"Yep. At present, though, I ain't workin' at the capitalist end. But
I'm always a promoter."

Hiram was growing uncomfortable. He had been warming toward this
genial stranger; now he felt he was being ridiculed. He kept silent
and looked out the window.

The other nonchalantly resumed his paper as if the conversation were
over.

But Hiram did not wish it to end here. Despite the stranger's
fantastic statement, there was that in his bearing which told Hiram he
meant what he said, and that, furthermore, it was with him a matter of
indifference whether any one believed him or not. He wished the two
tramps would leave. He felt that then he could talk to the other man
with less reserve.

As he sat there silently thinking, this wish was granted. A third
unkempt individual thrust his head in at the door and remarked, "Hey,
youse!"

The cribbage players looked up.

In explanation the man in the door held up a quarter between a
calloused forefinger and thumb.

A broad grin broke on the face of one of the players as he scraped back
his chair and rose. "Cheese, Thumbscrew, where'd youse glom it?" he
gasped ecstatically.

"Never mind w'ere I glommed it, Scully," was the retort. "De point is,
are youse guys in on helpin' me lick up a growler?"

The other tramp had risen, and spoke for both as he strode toward the
door. "Lead us to it, Thumbscrew," he swaggered portentously; "lead us
to it, ol'-timer!" And the door slammed behind the three.

Hiram glanced back at the man behind the newspaper. He had not so much
as slanted a look toward the door.

Hiram's chance had come. After a silent minute he essayed:

"But I didn't come to the city to leave it right away and go to drivin'
mules. I came here to get a start."

The other politely lowered his paper. "What're you doin'--breakin'
loose from home to make yer fortune?" he asked.

Hiram nodded and smiled.

The man surveyed him for the first time from head to foot. "Been a
farmer up in Mendocino?" he queried.

"Sorta," Hiram admitted. Then in a low voice: "To tell the truth, this
is my first time in a city. I got in last night. I've never been out
o' Mendocino County but once before."

A few wrinkles of puzzlement came between the other's brows. "How old
are you?"

"Twenty-six," was Hiram's meek confession.

The stranger studied, a whimsical smile twisting his li