Murk picked them up and put them on, and then he followed at Prale's heels until they were on the street and beneath the nearest light. There they stopped and looked each other over. Murk was short, but he was built for strength. Prale could tell at a glance that the man, even poorly nourished as he was, had muscles that could be depended on. Prale liked the look around Murk's eyes, too. Murk was a dog man, the sort that proves faithful to the end if treated right. "Well, how do you like me?" Prale asked. "You look good to me, sir." "My name is Sidney Prale." "Yes, Mr. Prale." "You understand our little deal thoroughly?" "Yes, sir." "Come along, then. Here is a cigar--light up!" Murk lighted the cigar, and Prale lighted another, and they went rapidly up the street to Fifth Avenue. Prale signaled a passing taxicab, and they got in. When the cab stopped, it was in a district where some cheap clothing stores remain open until almost midnight. Half an hour later they emerged again. Murk was dressed in a suit which was somber in tone, and which was not at all a bad fit. He was dressed in new clothing from the skin out. Prale took him to a barber shop, and waited until the barber gave Murk a hair cut and a shave. "Gosh!" Murk said, when he looked at himself in the glass. "This can't be me!" "It is, however," Prale assured him. "Now, we'll go home, Murk, and get settled." "Where is home?" Prale named the hotel. "I'd get thrown out on my bean if I ever stuck my nose in the kitchen door," Murk said. "You're not going into the kitchen, Murk. You're going to be registered as my valet and bodyguard, and you're going up in the elevator with me. Kindly remember, Murk, that you are the personal servant of Mr. Sidney Prale." "Yes, sir." "And your boss has a million dollars and nobody knows how many secret enemies. Those things give you a standing, Murk. When we are alone, of course, you'll be a sort of pal. I never had a valet before and I couldn't stand a regular one. Instead of being a valet, when we are alone, I want you to be a regular fellow." "I getcha, Mr. Prale." "Off we go, then." They arrived at the hotel, and Prale registered Murk as his valet and took him up to the suite. "You bunk in there, Murk," Prale said, pointing to another room. "Take a bath and go to bed and get some rest. If you are inclined to throw me down, you'll find some money and jewelry in the top drawer of the dresser. Rob me and sneak out during the night, if you want to. Cut my throat, if it's necessary." "You needn't be afraid, sir--you can trust me!" "I do!" said Sidney Prale. Prale slept well that night. When he awoke in the morning, Murk was dressed and sitting by the window. He drew Prale's bath without being told, and then stood around as if waiting to be of service. "I--I found this slipped under your door, sir," he said, after a time. "What is it, Murk?" "A piece of paper with writing on it, sir."