the stair--which they had climbed like cats--walked past her door with a
brisk swaggering preternaturally steady gait that invoked the memory of
former occupants of the mansion. Then Gwynne's door opened and shut as
if by sleight of hand. Stone's was at the end of the hall. Isabel
inferred that he went through it, and a sound between a hiss and a
smothered roar shot down the hall as he would seem to pick up the door
and bang it into place.

Mr. Hofer had mentioned his luncheon hour as half-past one. Isabel had
Gwynne called an hour before. She was sitting on the veranda, as he
emerged. He was as well groomed as usual, but he was unmistakably pale
beneath his new coat of tan. She laughed wickedly.

"Oh yes," he said, imperturbably, "I was drunk. If I had not been I
never could have got through it, not being a seasoned San Franciscan. I
thought I knew vice. I have seen a good many variations, and in places
where protection was necessary. But I had not guessed at the
combination of ancient civilization and the crudities of the mining-camp
in the heart of a modern city. Stone is not a tank, but a camel. I
befuddled myself successfully in those dives under the pavements--and we
had by no means begun there: I should say we had patronized at least
half the saloons in San Francisco before we started for the underworld.
As we finally supported each other up the hill--we hadn't the price of a
cab left between us--it seemed to me that I was ascending from a jungle
of antediluvian men and women and beasts for ever and ever on the
rampage. San Francisco is the most wonderful city in the world inasmuch
as she not only exists but thrives on the top of such outrageous
rottenness. And no wonder that the men like Hofer are desperate. We were
escorted by a policeman after all, and he seemed to enjoy himself. The
flash of knives--I saw two men stuck--made as little impression upon him
as the awful abandonment of--well, of the females. Good God!--Well, I
hope another variety is in store to-day. Hofer, at least, does not
appear to be dissipated."

"Oh no, it is the fashion in that set to be domestic and good citizens.
All you'll hear of the underworld to-day will be its relation to
politics. They have been making a desperate fight to defeat the present
mayor's reelection and have been overwhelmingly defeated. The mayor is
popularly supposed to be a criminal at large, and the party that
supports him call themselves socialists, and are labo