Chinamen, Japanese, Portuguese, Americans; a score of nationalities and
complexions rubbed shoulders as they wandered aimlessly among the many
bright-painted cottages.

Yet even in that careless throng of pleasure-seekers no one rubbed
shoulders with Harrigan. The flame of his hair was like a red lamp
which warned them away. Or perhaps it was his eye, which seemed to
linger for a cold, incurious instant on every face that approached. He
picked out the prettiest of the girls who sat at the windows chatting
with all who passed. He did not have to shoulder to win a way through
the crowd of her admirers.

She was a _hap haoli_, with the fine features of the Caucasian and the
black of hair and eye which shows the islander. A rounded elbow rested
on the sill of the window; her chin was cupped in her hand.

"Send these away," said Harrigan, and leaned an elbow beside hers.

"Oh," she murmured; then: "And if I send them away?"

"I'll reward you."

"Reward?"

For answer he dragged a crimson carnation from the buttonhole of a tall
man who stood at his side.

"What in hell--" began the victim, but Harrigan smiled and the other
drew slowly back through the crowd.