“Here!  It may cost you something.”

Padden nodded and accepted the money, saying: 

“Oh, I guess I can fix it.  I know the right doctor.”  He regained his feet, then warned the onlookers:  “But you’ll have to keep your traps closed, understand?”

“Will he die?” asked Ringold, fearfully, his back still against the door.

“Not a chance.  But if he does he’ll never know who hit him.  You see, we picked him up in the alley and brought him in.”  Padden winked meaningly.  “It happens right along in this part of town.  Do you get me?  I’ll keep these.”  He indicated the badge and papers in his hand.  “Now go out as if nothing had come off.  Drop in again the next time you’re in town.  I’ll take care of the supper checks.”

As the partly sobered visitors struggled into their overcoats Padden drew Locke aside, and, nodding toward Higgins, who was still talkative, said: 

“If you want to catch that ten o’clock boat you’d better stick close to your friend; I know him.”

“Thanks!” Locke glanced at the prostrate figure, then inquired in a low tone:  “On the level, will he make it?”

“Hard to tell.  Just the same, if I was you I’d change my sailing—­ he might come to.”

“You chaps have done me a big favor to-night,” said Locke, a little later, when he and his companions were safely out of the Austrian Village, “and I won’t forget it, either.  Now let’s finish the evening the way we began it.”

Anderson, Rankin, and Burroughs, to conceal their nervousness, pleaded bodily fatigue, while Anthony also declared that he had enjoyed himself sufficiently for one night and intended to go home and to bed.  “That episode rather got on my nerves,” he acknowledged.

“Mine, too,” assented Locke.  “That’s why you mustn’t leave me.  I just won’t let you.  Remember, you agreed to see me off.”

“’S’right, fellows,” Higgins joined in.  “We agreed to put him aboard and we must do it.  Don’t break up the party, Kirk.”

“I don’t want to go home,” Ringold muttered.

“It’s a breach of hospitality to go home,” Higgins insisted.  “Besides, after my bloody ’ncounter with that limb of the law I need a stimulant.  You must look after me.”

“I shall tuck you in your little bed,” Kirk told him.  But Higgins would hear to nothing of the sort, protesting that he was in honor bound to conduct his old friend Locke to the steamer, and Anthony feared that without his protection some harm might befall his irresponsible and impulsive companion.  Candor requires it to be said that he did hesitate, arguing long with the limp-legged Higgins; but Locke was insistent, the others grew impatient of the delay, and in the end he allowed himself to be persuaded.

It is often through just such sudden, inconsequent decisions, influenced perhaps by the merest trifles, that a man’s life is made great or small; just such narrow forkings of the trail may divert him into strange adventurings, or into worlds undreamed of.  Kirk Anthony, twenty-six years old, with a heritage at hand, and with an average capacity for good or evil, chose the turning that led him swiftly from the world he knew into an alien land.