The mules walked the half dozen blocks back to the lumber yard, while my mind reviewed this conversation.  There was a bit of mystery to it which had fascination, because of a vague promise of adventure.  Evidently this man Neale had need of a stranger to help him out in some scheme, and had picked me by chance as being the right party.  Well, if the pay was good, and the purpose not criminal, I had no objections to the spice of danger.  Indeed, that was what I loved in life, my heart throbbing eagerly in anticipation.  I was young, full-blooded, strong, willing enough to take desperate chances for sufficient reward.  There was a suspicion in my mind that all was not straight—­Neale’s questions, and the private signals to be given at a side door left that impression—­yet I could only wait and learn, and besides, my conscience was not overly delicate.  I had lived among a rough, reckless set, had experienced enough of the seamy side of life to be somewhat careless.  I would take the chance, at least, in hope of escape from this routine.

All the rest of the day, for this meeting had occurred early in the afternoon, I labored quietly, loading and unloading lumber, my muscles aching from a species of toil to which I had not yet become accustomed, my mind active in imagination over the possibilities of this new employment.  I was not obliged to live this sort of life, but the uneasy spirit of adventure held me.  My father, from whom I had not heard a word in two years, was a prominent manufacturer in a New England village.  The early death of my mother had left me to his care when I was but ten years old, and we failed to understand each other, drifting apart, until a final quarrel had sent me adrift.  No doubt this was more my fault than his, although he was so deeply immersed in business that he failed utterly to understand the restless soul of a boy.  I was in my junior year at Princeton, when the final break came, over an innocent youthful escapade, and, in my pride, I never even returned home to explain, but disappeared, drifting inevitably into the underworld, because of lack of training for anything better.  This all occurred four years previous, three of which had been passed in the ranks, yet even now I was stubbornly resolved not to return unsuccessful.  Perhaps in this new adventure I should discover the key with which to unlock the door of fortune.

I possessed a fairly decent suit of clothes, now pressed and cleaned after the rough trip from the coast, and dressed as carefully as possible in the dingy room of my boarding house.  A glance into the cracked mirror convinced me, that, however I might have otherwise suffered from the years of hardship, I had not deteriorated physically.  My face was bronzed by the sun, my muscles like iron, my eyes clear, every movement of my body evidencing strength, my features lean and clean cut under a head of closely trimmed hair.  Satisfied with the inspection, confident of myself,