“I had forgotten the hobo, when about five o’clock he passed me a little below the Steel Pier.  He was in a big stride and he had something clutched in his hand.

“He called to me as he hurried along:  ’I got him, Governor....  See you later!’

“‘See me now,’ I said.  ‘What’s the hurry?’

“He flashed his hand open, holding a silver dollar with his thumb against the palm.

“‘Can’t stop now, I’m going to get drunk.  See you later.’

“I smiled at the disingenuous creature.  He was saving me for the dry hour.  He could point out Mulehaus in any passing chair, and I would give some coin to be rid of his pretension.”

Walker paused.  Then he went on: 

“I was right.  The hobo was waiting for me when I came out of the hotel the following morning.

“‘Howdy, Governor,’ he said; ‘I located your man.’

“I was interested to see how he would frame up his case.

“‘How did you find him?’ I said.

“He grinned, moving his lip and his loose nose.

“‘Some luck, Governor, and some sleuthin’.  It was like this:  I thought you was stringin’ me.  But I said to myself I’ll keep out an eye; maybe it’s on the level—­any damn thing can happen.’

“He put up his hand as though to hook his thumb into the armhole of his vest, remembered that he had only a coat buttoned round him and dropped it.

“’And believe me or not, Governor, it’s the God’s truth.  About four o’clock up toward the Inlet I passed a big, well-dressed, banker-looking gent walking stiff from the hip and throwing out his leg.  “Come eleven!” I said to myself.  “It’s the goose-step!” I had an empty roller, and I took a turn over to him.

“’"Chair, Admiral?” I said.

“’He looked at me sort of queer.

“’"What makes you think I’m an admiral, my man?” he answers.

“’"Well,” I says, lounging over on one foot reflective like, “nobody could be a-viewin’ the sea with that lovin’, ownership look unless he’d bossed her a bit....  If I’m right, Admiral, you takes the chair.”

“’He laughed, but he got in.  “I’m not an admiral,” he said, “but it is true that I’ve followed the sea."’

“The hobo paused, and put up his first and second fingers spread like a V.

“’Two points, Governor—­the gent had been a sailor and a soldier; now how about the tanner business?’

“He scratched his head, moving the ridiculous cap.

“’That sort of puzzled me, and I pussyfooted along toward the Inlet thinkin’ about it.  If a man was a tanner, and especially a foreign, hand-workin’ tanner, what would his markin’s be?

“‘I tried to remember everybody that I’d ever seen handlin’ a hide, and all at once I recollected that the first thing a dago shoemaker done when he picked up a piece of leather was to smooth it out with his thumbs.  An’ I said to myself, now that’ll be what a tanner does, only he does it more ... he’s always doing it.  Then I asks myself what would be the markin’s?’