"Dan," said Mason, as he took a chair beside Gibbs. They had spoken in low, quiet tones, yet somehow the simplicity of their greeting suggested a friendship that antedated all things of the present, stretching back into other days, recalling ties that had been formed at times and under circumstances that were lost in the past and forgotten by every one, even the police. However well the other three might have known Gibbs, they delicately implied that their relation could not be so close as that of Joe Mason, and they were silent for an instant, as if they would pay a tribute to it. But the silence held, losing all at once its deference to the friendship of Gibbs and Mason, and taking on a quality of constraint, cold and repellent, plainly due to Archie’s presence. Archie felt this instantly, and Mason felt it, for he knew the ways of his kind, and, turning to Gibbs, he said: "A friend of mine; met him in the boob." And then he said: "Mr. Gibbs, let me introduce Mr. Koerner." Gibbs looked at Archie keenly and gave him his hand. Then Mason introduced Archie to the three other men--Jackson, Mandell and Keenan. Gibbs, meanwhile, turned to his wife, who had taken a chair against the wall and folded her arms. "Get Joe and his friend something to drink, Kate," he commanded. The woman rose wearily, asked them what they wished to drink, and went into the bar-room for the whisky glasses. The little company had accepted Archie tentatively on Mason’s assurance, but they resumed their conversation guardedly and without spontaneity. Mason, however, gave it a start again when he turned to Jackson and said: "Well, Curly, I read about your trouble. I was glad you wasn’t ditched. I thought for a while there that you was the fall guy, all right." Jackson laughed without mirth and flecked the ash from his cigarette. "Yes, Joe, I come through." "He sprung you down there, too!" said Mason with more surprise than Archie had ever known him to show. "I figured you’d waive, anyhow." "Well, I wanted a show-down, d’ye see?" said Jackson. "I knew they couldn’t hold me on the square." "Didn’t they know anything?" "Who, them chuck coppers?" Jackson sneered. "Not a thing; they guessed a whole lot, and when I got out they asked if I’d object to be mugged." Jackson was showing his perfect teeth in a smile that attracted Archie. "They’d treated me so well, I was ready to oblige them--d’ye see?--and I let ’em--so they took my Bertillon. I didn’t think one more would hurt much." Jackson looked down at the table and smiled introspectively. The smile won Archie completely. He was looking at Jackson with admiration in his eyes, and Jackson, suddenly noticing him, conveyed to Archie subtly a sense of his own pleasure in the boy’s admiration.