The outward process ended in his fishing out three _dineros_ from his trouser pocket and bestowing one on each of them--twopence-halfpenny or thereabouts is a godsend to a juvenile in San Ramon. "There, little fools!" he said. "Take the stranger's bag along and don't quarrel any more. There is nothing in this world so silly as quarrelling." With that he went back down the hill, and so came on Foe and on Santa, talking down to Foe from the balcony porch. "Hallo, old man!" said Farrell, looking Foe straight in the eyes: and "Hallo!" answered Foe, looking Farrell straight in the eyes. Santa, gazing down from the rail, thought it strange that they did not shake hands, as Britons and Americans do when they met. "I found three rascals," said Farrell easily, "scrapping for the honour of delivering a suit-case at Engelbaum's hotel--a suit-case that I recognised. I rescued it, and it is now safe in the porch. . . . Oh, by the way, though you seem to have made acquaintance, let me do the formal and introduce you to my wife. Santa, this is Doctor Foe, an old fellow-traveller." Foe gave him one glance, shrewd and steady, before looking aloft and again raising his hat. The thrust did not penetrate Farrell's defence. "It's awkward," said Farrell, "that we can't even offer you a bed. We're all packed up, ready to sail by the steamer to-morrow. Mrs. Farrell and I in fact are shifting quarters. . . . Staying?" "No," said Foe imperturbably. "I shall be sailing to-morrow, too. . . . I just heard of this place, and thought I'd like to have a look at it before going on. . . . Shouldn't think of troubling you." "Curious, how small the world is," went on Farrell in a level voice. "You won't mind my talking a bit in the old manner? . . . It sort of puts us back at the old ease, eh? . . . Well then, we can't offer to put you up. But if you don't mind a packing-case for a chair and another for a table--eh, Santa?" "We shall be charmed," said Santa. "You understand that it will be a picnic," added Farrell. "My good sir!" protested Foe. "Yes? . . . It will be better than Engelbaum's, any way. I don't mind promising," said Farrell. "We will talk over old times, and Santa shall play her guitar to us." That is how the two men met. The _P.M. Diaz_ plied no farther than Callao. From Callao the Farrells, with their furniture, and Foe in company, worked down by coasters to Valparaiso.