“Do you see any reason why you shouldn't?” inquired the other composedly. “None,” said the young man, “except that the steamer sails at daybreak, and I should never forgive myself if you were left behind.” “Nor forgive yourself, perhaps, if you failed to sail on her as a first-class passenger,” said the tall man quietly. “What?” ejaculated the young man sharply. The other shrugged his shoulders. “It depends on the story,” he said. “I--I don't understand.” The young man frowned. “There's a chance for me to get aboard the mail boat?” “It depends on the story,” said the other again. “Moon-mad!” murmured the young man once more, after a moment's silence. “But it's cheap at the price, for it's not much of a story. Beginning where you left off in my biography, I ducked when the crash came in San Francisco, and having arrived in hell, as you so delicately put it, I started out to explore. Mr. Dante had it right--there's no use stopping in the suburbs. I lived a while in his last circle. It's too bad he never knew the 'Frisco water-front; it would have fired his imagination! I'm not sure, though, but Honolulu's got a little on 'Frisco, at that! Luck was out. I was flat on my back when I got a chance to work my way out to Honolulu. One place was as good as another by then.” The young man lit a cigarette, and stared at the glowing tip reminiscently with his gray eyes. “You said something about gambling,” he went on; “but you didn't say enough. It's a disease, a fever that sets your blood on fire, and makes your life kind of delirious, I guess--if you get it chronic. I guess I was born with it. I remember when I was a kid I--but I forgot, pardon me, the mail boat sails at daybreak.” “Go as far as you like,” said the tall man, picking at his teeth with the quill toothpick. The young man shook his head. “Honolulu is the next stopping place,” he said. “On the way out I picked up a few odd dollars from my fellow-members of the crew, and----” “Tck!” It was the quill toothpick. The young man's eyes narrowed, and his jaw set challengingly. “Whatever else I've done,” he stated in a significant monotone, “I've never played crooked. It was on the level.” “Of course,” agreed the tall man hastily. “I sat in with the only stakes I had,” said the young man, still monotonously. “A bit of tobacco, a rather good knife that I've got yet, and a belt that some one took a fancy to as being worth half a dollar.” “Certainly! Of course!” reiterated the tall man in haste. The quill toothpick was silent.