For the first time in years the East called him--the old life of cleanliness and respectability.

He swore to himself as he tossed the Chinaman pay for his breakfast, and strode out onto the steps.

Two men were coming up the street together from the opposite direction--one lean, dark-skinned, with black goatee, the other heavily set with closely trimmed gray beard.

Keith knew the latter, and waited, leaning against the door, one hand on his hip.
"Hullo, Bob," he said genially; "they must have routed you out pretty early to-day." "They shore did, Jack," was the response.

He came up the steps somewhat heavily, his companion stopping below.