uncertainly, questioning whether to make his presence known or
return to the loneliness of the shed. The question was decided
for him. He had not considered that standing in the moonlight he
was a conspicuous figure. The planks of the wharf creaked and a
man came toward him. As one who means to attack, or who fears
attack, he approached warily. He wore high boots, riding
breeches, and a sombrero. He was a little man, but his movements
were alert and active. To David he seemed unnecessarily excited.
He thrust himself close against David.

"Who the devil are you?" demanded the man from the tug. "How'd
you get here?"

"I walked," said David.

"Walked?" the man snorted incredulously.

"I took the wrong train," explained David pleasantly. "They put
me off about a mile below here. I walked back to this flag
station. I'm going to wait here for the next train north."

The little man laughed mockingly.

"Oh, no you're not," he said. "If you walked here, you can just
walk away again!" With a sweep of his arm, he made a vigorous and
peremptory gesture.

"You walk!" he commanded.

"I'll do just as I please about that," said David.