“This way then,” said Wilson. “I know this part of town better than you do. Run on your toes.” And he darted past Borton's, and plunged into an alley that led toward the north. Porter and I followed, as quietly as possible, through the dark and noisome cut-off to Pacific Street. Wilson turned toward the bay, and crossing the street at the next corner followed the main thoroughfare to Broadway. “I guess we're all right now,” he gasped, as we turned again to the west, “but we'd best keep to the middle of the street.” And a little later we were in sight of the house of mystery which fronted, forbidding and gloomy as ever, on Montgomery Street. “Where's Barkhouse?” I asked of Trent, who was on guard. “He hasn't come in, sir. Phillips got here a bit ago, and I think he has something to report.” As Phillips had been sent scouting with Barkhouse I thought it likely, and called him to my room. “No, sir, I didn't see Bob for nigh on an hour before I came back. Not after we got to Borton's.” “I left him just outside the door,” I said. “Then you seen him after I did. I was following two fellows down to the Den, you know, and that was the last I seen of Bob.” I understood that the Den was one of the meeting-places of the enemy. “Did you find anything there?” “Not a thing. The two fellows went in, but they didn't come out. Another gang of three comes along and goes in, but none of 'em shows up again, and I reckoned they'd gone to bed; so I takes it as a hint and comes up here.” “I suppose it would have done no good to wait.” “You don't think Bob's been took, do you?” I did feel uneasy over the absence of the stalwart scout, and but for the orders I had received for the morning I should have had my forces out to find him, or get a hostage in exchange. But as it was, I dissembled my fears and made some reassuring reply. At the earliest light of the morning I was once more astir, but half-refreshed by my short and broken rest, and made my dispositions for the day. I ordered Porter, Fitzhugh, Brown, Wilson, Lockhart and Abrams to wait for me at the Oakland Ferry. Trent, who was still weak from his wound, I put in charge of the home-guard, with Owens, Phillips and Larson as his companions, and gave instructions to look for Barkhouse, in case he did not return. Wainright I took with me, and hailing a hack drove to the Palace Hotel. There was a rattle of wagons and a bustle of departing guests as we drove into the courtyard of the famous hostelry. The eight-o'clock boat was to carry the passengers for the east-bound overland train, and the outgoing travelers were filling the place with noise and confusion. I stepped out of the hack, and looked about me anxiously. Was I to meet the Unknown? or was I to take orders from some emissary of my hidden employer? No answering eye met mine as I searched the place with eager glance. Neither woman nor man of all the hurrying crowd had a thought for me.