un-Californian. To one born and bred in that state, as Kirkwood had been,
her sons are unmistakably hall-marked.

Now no man lies without motive. This one chose to reaffirm, with a show of
deep feeling: "Yes; I'm from Frisco, too. We're companions in misfortune."

"I hope not altogether," said Kirkwood politely.

Mr. Calendar drew his own inferences from the response and mustered up a
show of cheerfulness. "Then you're not completely wiped out?"

"To the contrary, I was hoping you were less unhappy."

"Oh! Then you are--?"

Kirkwood lifted the cable message from the mantel. "I have just heard from
my partner at home," he said with a faint smile; and quoted: "'Everything
gone; no insurance.'"

Mr. Calendar pursed his plump lips, whistling inaudibly. "Too bad, too
bad!" he murmured sympathetically. "We're all hard hit, more or less."
He lapsed into dejected apathy, from which Kirkwood, growing at length
impatient, found it necessary to rouse him.

"You wished to see me about something else, I'm sure?"

Mr. Calendar started from his reverie. "Eh? ... I was dreaming. I beg
pardon. It seems hard to realize, Mr. Kirkwood, that this awful catastrophe
has overtaken our beloved metropolis--"