Outside of Nellie's mother the one friend to whom Sam turned now was Jeff. He came for comfort, to sit long hours in the office while Farnum did his night work. Sometimes he would read; more often sit brooding with his chin in his hands. When the midnight rush was past and Jeff was free they would go together to a restaurant. Afterwards they would separate at the door of the block where Jeff had his rooms. Part 3 Yet when Jeff found her it was not Sam who was with him, but Marchant. They had been to see Sobieski about a place Captain Chunn had secured for him as a night watchman of the shipbuilding plant of which Clinton Rogers was part owner. The Pole had mounted his hobby and it had been late when they got away from his cabin under the viaduct. Just before they turned into lower Powers Avenue from the deadline below Yarnell Way, Marchant clutched at the sleeve of his friend. “See that woman's face?” he asked sharply. “No.” Jeff was interested at once. For during the past months he had fallen into a habit of scanning the countenance of any woman who might be the one they sought. “She knew you. I could see fear jump to her eyes.” “We'll go back,” Jeff decided instantly. “She's in deep water. Death is written on her face.” Already Jeff was swinging back, almost on the run. But she had gone swallowed up in the darkness of the night. They listened, but could hear only the steady splashing of the rain. While they stood hesitating the figure of a woman showed at the other end of the alley and was lost at once down Pacific Avenue. Jeff ran toward the lights of the other avenue, but before he reached it she had again disappeared. Marchant joined him a few moments later. The little socialist leaned against the wall to steady himself against the fit of coughing that racked him. “Nuisance... this... being a lunger... What's it all... about, Jeff?” “I know her. We'll cover the waterfront. Take from Coffee Street up. Don't miss a wharf or a boathouse. And if you find the girl don't let her get away.” The editor crossed to the Pacific & Alaska dock, his glance sweeping every dark nook and cranny that might conceal a huddled form. Out of a sodden sky rain pelted in a black night. He was turning away when an empty banana crate behind him crashed down from a pyramid of them. Jeff whirled, was upon her in an instant before she could escape. She was shrinking against the wall of the warehouse, her face a tragic mask in its haggard pallor, a white outline clenched hard against the driving rain. One hand was at her heart, the other beat against the air to hold him back. “Nellie!” he cried. “What do you want? Let me alone! Let me alone!” She was panting like a spent deer, and in her wild eyes he saw the hunted look of a forest creature at bay. “We've looked everywhere for you. I've come to take you home.” “Home!” Her strange laughter mocked the word. “There's no home for folks like me in this world.”