system of training. As he stood in the glow, breathing deep and full,
his figure, with its perfect lines of strength and litheness, the superb
but not too pronounced swell of limb and shoulder, would have been the
delight of the professional expounder of dumb-bells, bars and clubs, as
the most proper medium of "fitness" and condition. Whether he exercised
for the sake of exercising, or because bodily movement served to
stimulate his mind in the consideration of problems of moment, John
Steele certainly had never been in finer physical fettle than at this
particular period of his varied and eventful career. Which proved of
service to him and his well-being, for one night, not long thereafter,
he was called upon to defend himself from a number of footpads who set
upon him.

The episode occurred in his own street near a corner, where the shadows
were black at an hour when the narrow way seemed silent and deserted.
For a block or more footfalls had sounded behind him, now quickening,
then becoming more deliberate, in unison with his own steps, as from
time to time he purposely altered his pace. Once he had stopped;
whereupon they too had paused. A moment he stood looking up at St.
Paul's, immense, ominous, casting at that late hour a dim patch of
shadow over scores of pigmy buildings and paltry byways; when he went
on, patter!--patter!--the trailing of feet, inevitable as fate, followed
through the darkness. But they came no nearer until, abruptly wheeling,
he entered the short street where his chambers were located; at the same
time two men, apparently sauntering from the river in that side
thoroughfare, approached him somewhat rapidly, separating slightly as
they did so.

John Steele seemed oblivious. He moved into a doorway and drawing from
his pocket a cigar, unconcernedly lighted a match. The fellows looked at