"'Wickedness? Lord love you! _He_ couldn't see any. He'd go through 'Frisco, and out at the far end, without so much as guessing the place had a seamy side to it. His innocence,' pursued the captain, 'is unusual. I guess that's why we're taking so much care of him. But I must say you've been spry.' "'Upon my word, I can't at this moment make head or tail of the business. I met Miss Montmorency on the road--' "'I guess she was looking like a Montmorency, too. Flyheel Flo is her name hereabouts; alluding to her former profession of circus-rider. Perhaps I'd better put the facts straight for you.' "'I wish you would.' "'Well, it'll be about two months back that the Bishop came to Eucalyptus. We were most of us here in Simpson's bar when the coach drove up at nine o'clock--same time as it dropped you last night--and we loafed out to have a look. There was only one passenger got down; and he seemed of no account--a weedy-looking youngster with a small valise--looked like he might have come to be bartender to one of the small saloons. It was dark out there, you understand: nothing to see by but the lamps of the coach and the light of the doorway; besides which the fellow was pretty well muffled up in a heavy coat and wraps. Anyway he didn't seem worth a second look; so when the coach moved on we just sauntered back here, and I don't reckon there was a man in the room knew he'd followed us till he lifted up that reedy voice of his. 'Gentlemen,' he piped out, 'would some one of you be kind enough to direct me to a nice, comfortable lodging?' Old Huz-and-Buz was drinking here with his back to the door. 'Great Caesar's ghost!' he called out, dropping his glass, 'what 'n thunder's that?' 'Gentlemen,' pipes up the young man again, 'I am a stranger, this moment arrived by the coach; and it would be a real kindness to direct me to a comfortable lodging." By this time he'd unwound the muffler about his neck and unbuttoned his outer wraps generally, and we saw he was rigged out in genuine sky-pilot's uniform. We hadn't seen one of that profession in Eucalyptus for more'n two years. 'I'm afraid, your reverence,' says one of the boys, mimicking the poor lad's talk, 'I'm afraid the accommodation of this camp will hardly reach up to your style. I guess what _you_ want is a cosy little nook with a brass knocker and a nice motherly woman to look after you. You oughter have sent the municipality word you was coming.' 'Thank you,' answers the poor boy, as serious as can be; 'of course I shall be glad of such comforts, but I assure you they are not indispensable. I'm an old campaigner,' he says, drawing himself up to his poor little height and smiling proud-like. I tell you, that knocked the wind out of our sails. It was too big to laugh at. We just stuck for half a minute and looked at him, till the mischief put it into old Huz-and-Buz's head to cackle out, 'Better send him right along to Flyheel Flo!' This put up a laugh,