Produced by Suzanne Shell, Anuradha Valsa Raj, and Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders HARRIGAN MAX BRAND 1918 Also by Max Brand: BLACK JACK; TROUBLE KID; CLUNG; THUNDER MOON; THE STINGAREE; RIPPON RIDES DOUBLE; ON THE TRAIL OF FOUR; STEVE TRAIN'S ORDEAL; LARRAMEE'S RANCH; RIDE THE WILD TRAIL; THE GUNS OF DORKING HOLLOW; TORTURE TRAIL; THE GENTLE GUNMAN; THE GARDEN OF EDEN; GOLDEN LIGHTNING; THE STRANGER; MIGHTY LOBO CHAPTER 1 "That fellow with the red hair," said the police captain as he pointed. "I'll watch him," the sergeant answered. The captain had raided two opium dens the day before, and the pride of accomplishment puffed his chest. He would have given advice to the sheriff of Oahu that evening. He went on: "I can pick some men out of the crowd by the way they walk, and others by their eyes. That fellow has it written all over him." The red-headed man came nearer through the crowd. Because of the warmth, he had stuffed his soft hat into a back pocket, and now the light from a window shone steadily on his hair and made a fire of it, a danger signal. He encountered the searching glances of the two officers and answered with cold, measuring eyes, like the gaze of a prize fighter who waits for a blow. The sergeant turned to his superior with a grunt. "You're right," he nodded. "Trail him," said the captain, "and take a man with you. If that fellow gets into trouble, you may need help." He stepped into his automobile and the sergeant beckoned to a nearby policeman. "Akana," he said, "we have a man-sized job tonight. Are you feeling fit?" The Kanaka smiled without enthusiasm. "The man of the red hair?" The sergeant nodded, and Akana tightened his belt. He had eaten fish baked in ti leaves that evening. He suggested: "Morley has little to do. His beat is quiet. Shall I tell him to come with us?" "No," grinned the sergeant, and then looked up and watched the broad shoulders of the red-haired man, who advanced through the crowd as the prow of a ship lunges through the waves. "Go get Morley," he said abruptly. But Harrigan went on his way without misgivings, not that he forgot the policeman, but he was accustomed to stand under the suspicious eye of the law. In all the course of his wanderings it had been upon him. His coming was to the men in uniform like the sound of the battle trumpet to the cavalry horse. This, however, was Harrigan's first night in Honolulu, and there was much to see, much to do. He had rambled through the streets; now he was headed for the Ivilei district. Instinct brought him there, the still, small voice which had guided him from trouble to trouble all his life.