He came to a block where there were few pedestrians, where the great shops had their lights out and their night curtains up. He heard steps behind him, and presently a soft voice.
"Sid! Sid!"
Sidney Prale whirled around, alert and on guard, for he did not recognize the voice. A medium-sized man stood before him, a man of about his own age, who had a furtive manner and wore a beard.
"Don't you know me, Sid?"
"Can't say that I do!"
"Why, I'm your cousin, George Lerton. I'm the only relative you've got in the world, unless you got married while you were away."
Prale stepped aside so that the nearest light flashed on the face of the man before him.
"Well, if it isn't!" he said. "Didn't recognize you at first. How long have you been wearing the alfalfa on your face?"
"Two or three years," George Lerton told him, grinning a bit. "I saw your name in the passenger list, Sid, and wanted to see you. I found out where you are stopping——"
"Why didn't you come to the hotel, then, or leave a note?" Prale asked. "Come on up now."