“Good time and good luck and good health to you, from us all.  Jack 0’G.”

Gavin knew well the contents of the card, having written it and mailed it to himself on the eve of his departure from the North.  It was as mild and noncommittal a form of identification as he could well have chosen.

Standish read the banal message on the soiled card, then restored cash and postal to their respective pockets.  After which he stood frowning down in puzzled conjecture on the moveless Gavin.

“Well, old chap!” soliloquized Brice.  “If that evidence doesn’t back up all I said about myself, nothing will.  But, for the Lord’s sake, don’t help yourself to a pipeful of tobacco, till I have time to plant the loot deeper in the jar!”

He heard the light footfalls of women, upstairs, where Claire, in person, seemed to be superintending the arrangement of his room.  At the sound, a twinge of compunction swept Brice.  But, at memory of her brother’s stealthy ransacking of an unconscious guest’s clothes, the feeling passed, leaving only a warm battlethrill.

Drowsily, he opened his eyes, and stared with blank wonder up at Milo.  Then, shamefacedly, he mumbled: 

“I—­I hope I wasn’t baby enough to—­to keel over, Mr. Standish?”

“That’s all right,” answered Milo.  “It was my fault.  I was a boor.  And, very rightly, you decided you didn’t care to stay any longer under my roof.  But your strength wasn’t up to your spirit.  So you fainted.  I want to apologize for speaking as I did.  I’m mighty grateful to you, for your service to me, this evening.  And my sister and I want you to stay on here, for the present.  When you’re feeling more like yourself, we’ll have a chat about that job.  I think we can fix it, all right.  Nothing big, of course.  Nothing really worth your while.  But it may serve as a stopgap, till you get a chance to look around you.”

“If nothing better turns up,” suggested Brice, with a weak effort at lightness, “you might hire me as a bodyguard.”

“As a—­a what?” snapped Milo, in sharp suspicion, the geniality wiped from face and voice with ludicrous suddenness.  “A—?”

“As a bodyguard,” repeated Gavin, not seeming to note the change in his host.  “If you’re in the habit of being set upon, often, as you were, this evening you’ll be better off with a good husky chap to act as-”

“Oh, that?” scoffed Milo, in ponderous contempt.  “That was just some panhandler, who thought he might knock me over, from behind, and get my watch and wallet.  The same thing isn’t likely to happen again in a century.  Florida is the most law-abiding State in the Union.  And Dade County is perhaps the most law-abiding part of Florida.  One would need a bodyguard in New York City, more than here.  There have been a lot of holdups there.”

Gavin did not reply.  His silence seemed to annoy Milo who burst forth again, this time with a tinge of open amusement in his contempt: