"I 've bummed it most of the way from Frisco; I had to. I was homesick for the East, and lost my transportation."
"Your what?"
"Transportation; I was discharged at the Presidio."
"Oh, I see," smiling again, and tapping the wheel with his stick; "the army—foreign service?"
"The Philippines three years; invalided home."
"By God, you don't look it," his eyes on me. "Never saw a more perfect animal. Fever?"
"No, bolo wound; got caught in the brush, and then lay out in a swamp all night, till our fellows got up."
He looked at his watch, and I climbed into my seat. "See here, I have n't time to talk now, but I believe you are the very fellow I am looking for. If you want an easier job than this," waving a gloved hand toward the pile of lumber, "come and see me and we 'll talk it over." He took a card out of a morocco case, and wrote a line on it. "Come to that address at nine o'clock tonight."
I took the bit of pasteboard as he handed it up.
"All right, sir, I 'll be there on time."