They were not there to thank him; but somewhere beyond that howling,
storm-driven gulf he knew they were hurrying over the trail toward the
Clover Leaf.

Jerry staggered to the cabin, and his hand left the white knob red with
blood as he opened the door, but he took no notice of it.

He was too proudly contented with himself, for he was certain that he
had done well, and he was honest enough to admit to himself that he had
done well. But a small regret arose and persisted in his thoughts--if
his father had only been there to see!




IN YEDDO BAY


Somewhere along Theater Street he had lost it. He remembered being
hustled somewhat roughly on the bridge over one of the canals that cross
that busy thoroughfare. Possibly some slant-eyed, light-fingered
pickpocket was even then enjoying the fifty-odd yen his purse had
contained. And then again, he thought, he might have lost it himself,
just lost it carelessly.

Hopelessly, and for the twentieth time, he searched in all his pockets
for the missing purse. It was not there. His hand lingered in his empty
hip-pocket, and he woefully regarded the voluble and vociferous
restaurant-keeper, who insanely clamored: "Twenty-five sen! You pay now!