“All right,” answered Vandover smiling, “I’ll go.”

As he was going down the stairs on his way to find young Haight it occurred to him what Ida’s trouble might be.  He was all at once struck with a great fear, so that for an instant he turned cold and weak, and reached out his hand to steady himself against the railing of the stairs.  Ah, what a calamity that would be!  What a calamity!  What a dreadful responsibility!  What a crime!  He could not keep the thought out of his mind.  He tried to tell himself that Ida had practically given her consent by going into such a place; that he was not the only one, after all; that there was nothing certain as yet.  He stood on the stairway, empty for that moment, biting the end of his thumb, saying to himself in a low voice: 

“What a calamity, what a horrible calamity that would be!  Ah, you scoundrel!  You damned fool, not to have thought!” A couple of girls, the counter girls at one of the candy booths, came down the stairs behind him with a great babble of talk.  Vandover gave an irritated shrug of his shoulders as if freeing himself from the disagreeable subject and went on.

He could not find young Haight down stairs and so went up into the gallery again.  After a long time he came upon him sitting on an empty bench nursing his cane and watching the crowd go past.

“Hello, old man!” he exclaimed.  “Ellis told me I would find you around somewhere.  I was just going to give you up.”  He sat down beside his chum, and the two began to talk about the people as they passed.  “Ah, get on to the red hat!” exclaimed Vandover on a sudden.  “That’s the third time she’s passed.”

“Has Ellis gone off with Bessie Laguna?” asked young Haight.

“Yes,” answered Vandover.  “They’re going to have a time at the Cliff House.”

“That’s too bad,” young Haight replied.  “Ellis has just thrown himself away with that girl.  He might have known some very nice people when he first came here.  Between that girl and his whisky he has managed to spoil every chance he might have had.”

“There’s Charlie Geary,” Vandover exclaimed suddenly, whistling and beckoning.  “Hey, there, Charlie! where you going?  Oh,” he cried on a sudden as Geary came up, “oh, get on to his new store clothes, will you?” They both pretended to be overwhelmed by the elegance of Geary’s new suit.

“O-oh!” cried young Haight.  “The bloody, bloomin’, bloated swell.  Just let me touch them!”

Vandover shaded his eyes and turned away as though dazzled.  “This is too much,” he gasped.  “Such magnificence, such purple and fine linen.”  Then suddenly he shouted, “Oh, oh! look at the crease in those trousers.  No; it’s too much, I can’t stand it.”