After luncheon Mr. B. made him a present of a cheque--rather in excess of the sum which Hamar had all along intended to have, and could not have refrained from demanding much longer. In the afternoon all the San Francisco specials were full of the incident, and Hamar, seeing his name placarded for the first time, was so overcome that he spent the rest of the evening in the hotel deliberating how he could best turn his sudden notoriety to account. At ten o'clock Kelson came in, looking somewhat fatigued, but, nevertheless, pleased. He, too, had had adventures, and he detailed them with so much elaboration that the other two had frequently to tell him to "dry up." "I began the morning," he commenced, "by accosting a very fashionably dressed lady coming out of Bushwell's Store in Commercial Street. Divination at once told me she was the popular widow of J.K. Bater, the Biscuit King of Nob Hill, and that she was carrying in her big seal-skin muff a gold hatpin mounted with an emerald butterfly, a silver-backed hair brush, a blue enamelled scent bottle, and a porcelain jar, all of which she had slyly 'nicked,' when no one was looking. "I stepped up to her, and politely raising my hat said, 'Good morning, Mrs. Bater. I've a message for you.' "'I don't know you,' she said eyeing me very doubtfully, 'who are you?' "'Forgotten!' I said tragically, 'and I had flattered myself it would be otherwise. Still I must try and survive. I wanted to ask you a favour, Mrs. Bater.' "'A favour!' she exclaimed nervously, 'what is it? You are really a very extraordinary individual.' "'I was only going to ask if I might examine the contents of your muff? I think you have certain articles in it that have not been paid for--and I believe I am right in saying this is by no means the first time such a thing has happened.' "She turned so pale I thought she was going to faint. 'Why, whatever do you mean,' she stammered, 'I've nothing that does not belong to me.' "'Opinions differ on that score, Mrs. Bater,' I replied, 'you have a pin, a hair brush, a scent bottle and a jar,' and I described them each minutely, 'whilst in your house you have on your dressing-table a silver-backed clothes brush, a silver manicure set you kleptomaniad--if you prefer to call it so--from Deacon's in Sacramento Street; a tortoiseshell manicure set, and an ivory card case you obtained in the same manner from Varter's in Market Street; a set of silver buttons, a glove stretcher, and a mauve pin-cushion--you likewise helped yourself to--from Selter's in Kearney Street; but I might go on detailing them to you till further orders, for your house is literally crammed with them. You have done very well, Mrs. Bater, with the San Francisco storekeepers.' "'Good God, man, what are you?' she gasped. 'You seem to read into the innermost recesses of my soul, and to know everything.'