coast; a benevolent, white-haired judge, with a fund of excellent
stories; a lieutenant in the Zone Police who impressed Kirk as a
real Remington trooper come to life; and many another. They all
welcomed the Yale man with that freedom which one finds only on
the frontier, and as he listened to them he began to gain some
idea of the tremendous task that occupied their minds. They were
all men with work to do; there were no idlers; there was no class
distinction. One topic of conversation prevailed, and, although
the talk drifted away from it at times, it invariably came back to
The Job in the end.

Weeks did himself credit as a host. His table, spread on the
latticed balcony where the never-failing trade-winds fanned it,
was decorated tastefully with flowers, red-shaded candles, white
linen, and gleaming silver gave it a metropolitan air. Both the
food and the wine were well served, and the consul's half-dozen
guests soon became mellowed and friendly. Kirk felt he had fallen
among kindred spirits, for it was almost like a fraternity dinner.

When finally they arose, some one proposed a game of draw poker
and insisted upon Kirk's joining. He was about to refuse when
Weeks drew him aside to say:

"Don't let the money question stand in your way, Kirk. You're my
guest, and your I.O.U. is as good as a government bond; so go as
far as you like."

A considerable portion of Anthony's time in college had been
devoted to a course in draw poker--recitations, so to speak, being
conducted in the upper rooms of a Greek letter "frat," and he