He was under the wooden porch of the Fashion Restaurant--Give our Tamales a Trial.

He lingered here but a moment, however, then lurked on down the still thoroughfare, keeping well within the shadow of the low buildings.

Just beyond the street was the log cabin of the big-hearted miners.

A moment later he could not have been observed even by the keenest eye.
Nothing marked his disappearance, at least nothing that would have been noted by the casual minded.

He had simply gone.