too damp, and objected to a winter voyage," Featherstone resumed. "It
looks as if you were better at calculating the profit on a lumber deal
than diagnosing illness, because while you doctored me for influenza,
it was pneumonia I had. However, I admit that you did your best and
you needn't feel anxious. It seems I'm not much the worse, though I'll
have to be careful for the next few months, which I'm to spend on the
Pacific slope, California for choice. It's a bit of a knock, but can't
be helped."

Foster declared his sympathy, but Featherstone stopped him. "There's
another matter; that fellow Daly's here again. I expect you guessed
what he came for the last time?"

"I did. The bank-book showed you drew a rather large sum."

"No doubt you thought it significant that the check was payable to
myself?"

Foster was silent for a moment or two. He trusted his comrade, but
suspected that there was something in his past history that he meant to
hide. For one thing, Featherstone never spoke about his life in the
Old Country, and Foster was surprised when he stated his intention of
spending a few months there. It looked as if Daly knew his secret and
had used his knowledge to blackmail him.

"I'll go to California with you," he said. "One place is as good as
another for a holiday, and I'm really not keen on going home. I've no
near relations and have lost touch with my friends."

"No," said Featherstone, with a grateful look. "I want you to go to