After a few minutes the old gentleman came out of the hotel, and stood looking out upon the ocean, with rather a savage expression of countenance--and his was a face that could be very stern, when occasion required it. "I don'd know vedder I better poke mine nose inder dis pizness, or not," Fritz muttered, taking a second survey of him. "He looks like ash if he might swaller a veller off he got mad, und I don'd vas care apoud imitadin' Jonah." As if interpreting his thoughts, the old gent turned rather gruffly, and took a searching glance at the young man. "Well?" he said, "I suppose I look as if I wanted to cut some one's throat, don't I?" Fritz laughed lightly. "Vel, I vas t'inking somedings like dot," he admitted. "I thought so. I ain't a fool; I know when I am mad, I _look_ mad. Do you know of any party around here who's particularly anxious to end his career, and ain't got the grit to do the job?--I would like to operate on such a chap." "You feels like ash off you could pulverize some one, eh?" "Humph! I'll contract to lay out the first man that durst look cross-eyed at me. I'm mad, I am--mad as thunder, and I come from Leadville, too, where they raise thunder occasionally. Bah! I wish some one would step up and kick me!" "Well, I'm your man, if you really want a _bona fide_ job done!" Fritz caused a pompous-looking man to say, who stood near--ventriloquially, of course. "I'm the champion patent kicker from Kalamazoo!" The old gent from Leadville turned and gazed at the pompous-looking man a moment, his dander rising several degrees. "Oh! so you're anxious to kick me, are you, my Christian friend? You want to kick me, do you?" he ejaculated. "Who has said anything about kicking you, sir?" the pompous party demanded, in haughty surprise. "You'd evidently better go to bed and sleep off your 'cups,' my friend." "I haven't drank a drop, sir, in ten years. And for you to deny expressing a desire to boot me, sir--why, man, I heard you!" "You are a liar, sir; I said nothing of the kind. Besides, I am not in the habit of picking quarrels with strangers." And with a shrug, the pompous man turned on his heel, and walked off, indignantly. Leadville's angered delegate gazed after him a moment, with unutterable contempt--then turned to Fritz: "Poor fool. He's no sand, or he'd not cut and run, after calling a man a liar. Up in Leadville things are supremely different, but here alas! is a lack of back-bone. I say, young fellow, have you ever cherished dreams of becoming rich?--a man of millions, as it were?" "Vel, I don'd know but I haff some off dose anxiety to get rich, vonce in a vile," Fritz admitted. "Well, sir, I can tell you just how you can do it the easiest, if you will stroll upon the beach with me." Accordingly Fritz arose, and sauntered down to the beach with this eccentric Leadvillian, whoever he might prove to be.