"I am going to San Francisco."
Mark shook his head.
"I never was as far West as this before," he answered. "I came from New York."
"So I thought. You look like a tenderfoot. Are you going out to stay?"
"Only a short time. I am going after a young boy. I am going to carry him back with me."
"A kid, eh? You're not much more than a kid yourself."
"I guess I can take care of myself," said Mark with a smile.
"Shouldn't wonder. You look like it. Nothing soft about you."
"I hope I haven't got a soft head. As to my heart, I hope that isn't hard."